Sinning by Silence
by Beledi1113
Summary: Summary – Post 7x09 AU. SPOILER ALERT for season 7. What if Beckett's last visit to her old apartment didn't go quite as she planned and some old "friends" showed up to play. Still not light and fluffy like some of the fics out there. This is my interpretation of how things play out.
1. Chapter 1 Lies of Omission

Sinning by Silence

Summary – Post 7x09 AU. What if Beckett's last visit to her old apartment didn't go quite as she planned. Not light and fluffy like some of the fics out there.

Author's Note: Maybe I don't like Mondays after all because this evil plot bunny popped into my mind this morning and wouldn't let go. And I'm surprised no one has done this yet. Guess my Castle OCD is back for a little while. And this won't be long – just 3 chapters and I'm posting the first 2 at the same time so I'm hopefully not quite so mean.

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**Chapter 1 – Lies of Omission**

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Beckett stood surveying her old apartment, a slightly nostalgic smile gracing her lips. The mover had just left with the last box marked for delivery at Castle's – no, now their loft – their home – and she was still working this change into her life paradigm.

Castle was always saying that now they were married, what was his was hers, but the loft still felt more like his home. And she hadn't lived in another man's roof in years, not since she had graduated from the police academy and gotten her own place.

Lanie had been right – she would miss this place immensely and she was a little reluctant to let go of it since it part of her story. This had been her place, her home, her 'lair' in Castle-speak, for the last 4 years. She had come here to lick her wounds – she had fallen in love here – she had fought and almost lost that love here – she had solved her mother's murder here – and the things she and Castle could do here in the privacy of it still made her shiver.

She looked around and then her smile widened as she thought of what she wanted to do. Just as this place had put its permanent mark on her, she wanted to do likewise and picked up a knife she had left for her cousin Sophia.

Beckett quickly carved her initials into the wood and then stepped back to admire her handiwork. There – it said that Kate Beckett had been here – had lived here. Yes, that's exactly what she needed.

She took one last look around her apartment and smiled slightly again as she opened the door to walk out and close the proverbial door on this part of her life.

And froze, hesitating for a split second before starting to reach for her gun at the sight of the two people standing there, one of them aiming a gun at her.

A slight smile on her face, Dr. Kelly Neiman t'sked several times. "Now, now, Detective Beckett, is that any way to greet old friends? I'm surprised at your manners. I told you we'd be meeting again soon," she said in a pleasant voice.

Beckett raised her hands away from her gun and then walked backwards as the two people came into the apartment. She studied the man for a moment. He was the right height, maybe a little pudgier, definitely a different face, but the eyes were still cold, still deadly.

"Tyson," she breathed.

"Congratulations on the wedding. I hear it was quite lovely," said Tyson. "And telling Castle you had an errand to run on the way home – not telling him that you were coming here – priceless. Couldn't have planned it better myself."

Beckett frowned, narrowing her eyes – the messenger – he had been at the precinct delivering a letter to one of the detectives when Gates had told them to go home and had overheard their subsequent conversation. "You were there."

"Stalking my prey so to speak," Tyson replied. He cocked his head slightly to the left and studied her for a moment, and then straightened it and slowly walked behind her.

"So I was wondering – is it in your professional DNA or your personal DNA? This telling half-truths in your pursuit of justice – leaving things out when questioning suspects. And doing the same thing to your husband – these lies of omission? So that makes me wonder how truly invested in this marriage you really are."

His voice was almost soft in her ear. "But that's a moot point now. It's a shame that a lie is the last thing he'll ever hear from your lips. He'll spend forever wondering about it – whether or not you truly loved him enough to finally let him in all the way, wondering if he ever knew the real you."

"No!" Beckett exclaimed, whirling to face him, making her second mistake of the day. "You can't…"

She felt a needle prick the side of her neck and her voice trailed off as the room started to spin. "No," she sobbed as her knees buckled. "Castle…" was the last thing out of her mouth as darkness enveloped her.

# # # # # # # #

Castle straightened the wine glasses for the millionth time that evening and made sure the DVD was ready to play the moment Beckett walked in the door – well, not quite that moment, but very soon afterwards.

He glanced at his watch and then tried to call her again, frowning as the call went straight to voice mail.

Beckett said she was running an errand on the way home – their home, he smiled at the thought – and he knew she would have called him if she was running late.

He checked his traffic app again to see if there were any unusual snarls, but traffic looked normal. Still NYC traffic could be tricky.

Maybe she had been called back into the office and hadn't called him, he thought as his mind started to spin the possibilities – just like that time she had been called in to help on a special case and he hadn't been invited and then stonewalled at every turn until the truth finally came out. Surely Gates wouldn't have done something that stupid again.

He frowned as he speed dialed Espo's number and was glad when the Hispanic detective picked up on the 2nd ring. "Hey, Esposito – sorry to bother you, but there's nothing going on at the precinct that I should know about, is there?"

"No," came the reply. "What's up?"

"Beckett said she was running an errand on the way home, but she isn't home yet. I keep calling her, but it's going straight to voice mail."

"Huh, that's strange," said Espo.

"So nothing's going on?" Castle repeated.

"You know I'd tell you," Espo responded. "Listen, I'll call Ryan and meet you at the precinct in half an hour."

"Okay," said Castle. He picked up his jacket and keys and raced out of the loft, wishing that he had a gumball for his car.

# # # # # # # #

"I've located Beckett's car using its GPS, but I haven't been able to locate her phone yet," said Tori Ellis, bringing up a map on the computer screen. "The car is here."

"Ah," said Espo, rolling his eyes at Castle who was standing next to Ryan. "Remy's is there. See, bro, nothing to worry about. She was probably running late and stopped to pick something up."

"Yeah, thanks," said Castle, smiling almost sheepishly. He quickly speed dialed Remy's number. "Hey, Sam," he said when the manager answered the phone. He and Beckett were such frequent diners that they knew the staff by name and the wait staff knew their orders. "Is Beckett there? Uh, huh, uh, huh."

Castle frowned as he hung up and looked at Tory, Espo, and Ryan. "No one there has seen her tonight."

The butterflies in his stomach were starting to churn faster.

It was Ryan's turn to frown as he thumbed on his phone. "Hey, LT, Beckett's car is at parked at Remy's. Can you have a unit swing by and check it out?"

He looked at Castle. "So is there some other place she would go in the area?"

Castle shook his head. "No, not that I know of. All she said was that she was going to run an errand and then be home to watch a movie. Maybe she said something to Lanie?" he looked at Espo hopefully.

"I'll call her," said Espo.

Castle nodded, wracking his brain to think of where Beckett had gone.

Ryan's phone rang and he quickly picked it up. "Uh, huh, uh, huh. Thanks, man."

His frowned deepened as he looked at the people in the room. "Beckett's car is there, but the engine is cold."

Espo thumbed off his phone. "Lanie's working late tonight – she hasn't talked to Kate either."

The butterflies in Castle's stomach kicked into warp drive. He almost jumped when his phone chimed the special ring he had uploaded only for Beckett's text messages. "It's her," he breathed a sigh of relief and then thumbed it on to look at the text.

When Espo was Special Forces, he had seen the life leave a body through the scope on a rifle. Being so far away, it always felt impersonal. Now he had a front row seat as the color drained out of Castle's face and the man gasped for air as his knees buckled.

He and Ryan moved as one, pushing Castle down to the ground, not wanting him to hit his head in case he passed out on them.

Espo fished the phone off of the floor and looked at the text and then the picture. "Damn son of a bitch," he said as he handed the phone to Ryan.

The text was simple – "Guess I changed types" but the attached picture was life-destroying.

Beckett lay peacefully arranged on the ground, her green eyes open but unseeing and bloodshot, her lips blue, a 3-braided cord bound around her neck, the red ligature marks standing in stark contrast to the paleness of her skin. Kate Beckett was dead.

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	2. Chapter 2 Painted Ladies

Sinning by Silence

Summary – Post 7x09 AU. What if Beckett's last visit to her old apartment didn't go quite as she planned. Not light and fluffy like some of the fics out there.

Author's Note: And yes, once again, no one on Beckett's team would be allowed to work the case, including Gates, but this is TV fanfic, which sometimes defies reality.

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**Chapter 2 – Painted Ladies**

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Espo and Ryan had finally gotten Castle to his feet and maneuvered him into the conference room, closing the blinds so that he could have some peace as he struggled to come to terms with the fact that the love of his life had been so cruelly taken from him after they had come so far.

Epso quietly called Lanie to come and sit with Castle so that he and Ryan could work the case, now deemed a recovery mission by Gates when she walked back in and saw the evidence.

Quietly damning the bureaucracy for their hesitancy to admit that the 3X killer was alive, Gates threw all the manpower she could into finding Beckett, Tyson, and Dr. Neiman.

A funereal atmosphere clung to the precinct as the word spread and officers stopped by Beckett's desk to lay small mementos.

Ryan and Espo spent hours poring over the video footage from the cameras in the area where Beckett's car was found. All it showed was a tall slender brunette getting out of the car around 7 pm and then just walking off. No other cameras in the area picked her up again and the FBI didn't have any luck in turning her cell phone back on. She had just walked into the darkness and disappeared.

The team knew that any promises at this point were empty and useless because they had nothing to go on. This had caught them with their pants down, not only very embarrassing but also deadly.

# # # # # # # #

Tory queued up the text from Castle's phone one more time to show Espo and Ryan. "The odd thing is," she said, "this isn't just a picture – it's a video."

Espo frowned. "Why would he do that?"

Ryan nodded. "That doesn't make sense."

"Unless there's something on the video that he wants us to see," said Castle, coming into the room, his eyes rimmed in red, his face blotchy.

"You sure, man?" asked Espo.

Castle nodded wearily, sniffling slightly. "He sent it to me – he wanted me to see it. I owe her that much."

Espo nodded at Tory, who started the video again. All it showed was Beckett, lying there peacefully like she was taking a nap, but one that she would never wake up from again.

Castle closed his eyes as tears threatened to spill again and then paused, cocking his head slightly, listening. "Can you turn up the volume?" he asked Tory, looking at her.

The tech nodded.

Castle closed his eyes again, listening to the sounds – where had he heard those? The low rumble in the background – the muffled thud – another low rumble.

His eyes flew open. "That's from her apartment," he said. "Those are the sounds that Mr. Kubiak makes while in the bathroom."

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Not knowing the situation, SWAT moved in very quietly, surrounding the building and snaking a camera under the door while Espo, Ryan, and Beckett sat in the van, each lost in their own thoughts.

Gates had flatly refused to let Castle go along, saying that it could be exactly what Tyson wanted – to take them both out.

Castle shook his head miserably, barely able to get the words out. No, Tyson wanted more than death – he wanted him to suffer for the rest of his life.

The electricity had been left on for Sophia so she would have power when she moved in and the lights in every room were on.

They had spotted Beckett lying by the bathroom door and no one else was in the apartment. There were no signs of forced entry and booby traps.

SWAT cautiously entered the apartment, well aware that there could be dangers that had not been seen. When the lead officer was finally satisfied, he declared the area secure so that the team could enter.

Espo looked at Lanie as she took her bag out of the van. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Lanie looked sadly at Espo. "She was my best friend, Javi."

Espo nodded and quickly hugged her. "I'm here for you."

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Several uniforms stood guard in the hallway as the team walked into Beckett's old apartment.

Lanie stopped for a moment and pulled on gloves, taking a deep breath, steeling herself for what she had to do next.

"Let us know if you need anything," said Javi.

Lanie nodded. "I will," she said, her voice quavering slightly and then she turned and walked into the bedroom where Beckett lay while Espo and Ryan started taking the rest of the apartment apart for clues.

She put her bag down and pulled out a camera, taking pictures of …Kate… from several angles.

Finally, when she was satisfied with those, she knelt beside the body and gazed into her friend's unseeing eyes. The universe sucked right now – Beckett was finally happy – she had caught her mother's killer and married her best friend. And now this?

Lanie let out a sigh as she reached forward and closed Beckett's eyes gently, brushing a finger against her pale cheek. "Oh, girl," she said quietly. "You deserved a lot better."

What the hell, Lanie thought as she looked at the smudge on her glove and then the area that she had touched on Beckett's face. That part of the skin was tanned, not pale.

And her lips – the blue tinge looked strange – almost like lipstick... Lanie quickly rubbed her finger against Beckett's lips and looked at the blue smudge on the glove with a puzzled expression on her face.

It was the same when she rubbed the ligature marks and the thin line of blood on Beckett's neck – there was skin underneath – not torn flesh.

Lanie quickly bent over, feeling for a pulse and listening for any signs of life.

"Javi! Javi! Call an ambulance – she's alive!" Lanie screamed.

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Castle sat in the conference room, trying to get his brain to function on some level again – trying to decide whom to call first – Jim Beckett or his mother.

But any attempt at a decision was futile. Or maybe this news was best delivered in person – the news that Jim had lost a daughter or Martha a daughter-in-law – Kate Beckett's life was cut short by a deranged serial killer whom the NYPD had declared dead and was suddenly back.

He held up his phone again, struggling against his roiling stomach and taking a deep breath. Maybe in a minute he could do something…

His phone chirped as he heard high heels hurriedly clack towards the room he was in.

Beckett's ring tone again – he closed his eyes in pain and then swiped the phone on to read the text message. "Apparently she's not my type after all. And apparently you're not her type either since she lied to you. Congratulations on your wedding."

Castle could only stare at the phone and then look up stupidly as Gates burst into the room.

"Rick, Kate's alive – she's not dead. They've taken her to Mount Sinai."

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	3. Chpt 3 Rumblings of a Smoldering Volcano

Sinning by Silence

Summary – Post 7x09 AU. What if Beckett's last visit to her old apartment didn't go quite as she planned. Not light and fluffy like some of the fics out there. **The next chapter,** **Chapter 4, contains **_**A SPOILER**_ **for episode 7X11 **so if you want to be spoiler free, don't read Chapter 4 until after that episode airs (which is in less than 1 month – yeah!). Then this will go AU from there.

_Author's Note_s: Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows – the response has been amazing and you rock. And, yes, to those of you who commented (especially guests), when I kill off a character on the show, that's the first thing that will be in the summary in big bold letters so you can avoid the story if you don't read those types of stories. So, if it's not in the summary, don't worry if they appear to "die" or be in peril during the story because they won't die. Hmmm, does knowing that take some of the fun out of it? Maybe not, because I still get chills when I see Beckett's car go in the drink in Pandora/Linchpin and I know what happens.

AND the plot bunnies have struck again so this is going to be longer than I originally planned. What can I say…the story does what the story wants to do.

So, with that being said, do you want me to wait until after 7X11 airs before posting Chapter 4 and the rest of the chapters because Chapter 4 has spoilers for 7x11? Or do you want me to post as I finish them and just warn about spoilers?

Whoops – Forgot the part where I say I don't own anything Castle – just the stray characters that I add at times.

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**Chapter 3 – Rumblings of a Smoldering Volcano**

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Seeing that Castle was in no condition to drive to the hospital safely on his own, Gates offered to take him and put a little speed into their trip, making him hang on to the handle more than once.

The captain had barely stopped the car when Castle burst out of the passenger door and ran through the doors of the Mt. Sinai emergency room entrance, barely avoided people in his way.

"My wife—Kate Beckett—" he said almost breathlessly as he skidded to a halt at the front desk. "She was brought in a little while ago."

"Rick!" he heard Lanie's voice calling him as she hurried through the doors that led to the examination rooms.

"Lanie," he said, running towards her and then grasping her shoulders with both hands, his words rushing out of his mouth like rapid gunfire. "How is she? Is she going to be okay? What do they know?"

Lanie smiled at him. "Rick – it's okay. Kate's fine – she wasn't hurt."

"Oh thank god," Castle said, his voice catching, tears welling up in his eyes.

The ME pulled him to the side so they could talk privately. "Kate confirmed that it was Neiman and Tyson. She was at her apartment and they were waiting for her when she left. The doctors just got the toxicology reports back and the only thing they found was haloperidol. Neiman must have used it to sedate her."

Castle shook his head, clearly confused and not quite thinking on all cylinders yet from the shock of everything. "I don't understand – I thought he killed her – she looked dead."

Lanie shook her head. "No, Rick, it was makeup, just makeup. She's fine," she reassured him.

Castle gulped back the tears and nodded. "When can I see her?"

"I can take you back now," Lanie replied.

"Okay," said Castle as he scrubbed at his eyes with the palm of his hand. But at this point, he really didn't care who saw him – all that mattered was getting to Kate and seeing that she was okay.

Both still looking shaken, Espo and Ryan stood guard at door of the examination room Beckett was in and nodded grimly at Castle as he approached them.

"Hey, bro," said Espo. He didn't need to ask how Castle was doing because it was evident on the writer's face. "The FBI is taking over jurisdiction on this case and Beckett just gave her statement."

Castle nodded. Good – maybe Jordon Shaw would get involved and take this bastard down once and for all.

He sniffed again to clear his nose and then took a deep breath before pushing the door open, but then all semblance of control melted when he saw Kate standing by the gurney, barefoot, looking small and fragile in a hospital gown. Normally, playing naughty doctor was a big turn-on, but now the situation was frightening in the imagined scenarios of what could have happened.

"Oh my god, Kate," he whispered as he rushed to embrace her, both falling into each other's arms and weeping tears of relief.

"I thought I'd never see you again," they said at the same time, hands and lips tangling in an effort to reach as much of the other person that they could in the least amount of time.

After a few moments, they were finally content to stand there, wrapped around one another, feeling each other breathe, resting in the knowledge that the unthinkable hadn't happened.

Castle stroked her hair back from her forehead and along her neck, marveling at the healthy skin his fingertips found. She hadn't been hurt at all.

The spell was broken when a knock on the door jarred them back to reality and the doctor walked in.

"Detective Beckett," the woman said, "all of your tests were fine so you're free to get dressed and go home. However, if you experience anything out of the ordinary in the next several days, please contact your personal physician. We'll forward your records to their office."

"Thank you," Beckett said as she moved a little in Castle's arms to be able to face the doctor. She was reluctant to leave the safety she found there.

"I'll just have the nurse fill out the paperwork and she'll be in shortly to get your signature," the doctor said before leaving.

Beckett smiled as she leaned back against Castle's chest, her head resting against his shoulder.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," he breathed into her ear.

"Me too," said Beckett, closing her eyes. She waited for a few moments and slowly extracted herself from his arms. "The FBI took my clothes for evidence," she said, frowning.

Castle smirked slightly. "I could always let you wear my coat again or my shirt."

"And as much as I'd like to, I'm sure Lanie can find some scrubs for me to wear home," Beckett countered.

"Oh, and maybe she can find you a doctor's coat, you know, for when—"

Beckett interrupted him with a kiss. "Scrubs – no white coat," she said firmly.

"Okay," said Castle, nodding slightly as he reached out for her again, reluctant to let her go.

# # # # # # # #

After Gates ordered Beckett to take the day off, Espo and Ryan had offered to take the couple home.

They had graciously declined, deciding to forgo the indignity of riding in the back of the squad car, and called a car service instead.

The morning sun was just peeking over the NYC skyline when the town car pulled up to the emergency room entrance and Castle and Beckett got into the car, wearily sinking back into the seats.

"Rick," Beckett said as he watched her anxiously during the ride home, "you know I'm not going to disappear."

"Just checking to make sure you aren't going to do anything weird – you know, like your head spinning around 360 degrees or green flames coming out of your mouth," Castle replied.

"Really?" asked Beckett with a slight eye roll.

Castle shook his head as he grasped her hand. "No, just checking to make sure this isn't some dream and you're really here," he said finally.

He slumped back against the seat. This would come out eventually so it might be best to broach the subject now. He took a deep breath.

"Tyson sent me a video of you – of what you looked like – " his voice broke slightly. The FBI had taken his phone as evidence, but Beckett was bound to see it at some point. "That's how I knew where you were – I could hear Kubiak in the bathroom on it."

Beckett teared up again but quickly blinked them away. "I'm so sorry – I should have been more careful."

Castle shook his head. "No, Kate, I don't blame you – I blame those idiots at 1PP who said that Tyson was dead. And I blame myself for letting this drop – we should have been looking for him all along."

"We'll catch him," said Beckett reassuringly.

"Damn straight we will," Castle nodded fervently.

They sat in silence a while longer, just enjoying being with each other.

"Kate," Castle finally said, "Tyson also said something else – he said you lied to me. Why would he say that?"

Beckett pressed her lips together and then looked at Castle. He hadn't been there when she had given her testimony, so he didn't know. "Tyson was at the precinct – the package delivery guy – when Gates told us to go home. He heard what I said to you, about having an errand to run but not telling you what it was. So that's why he thought I'd lied to you."

"Really?" Castle questioned and then looked relieved. "Good, because I thought you had changed your mind about moving into the loft and didn't want tell me."

"Castle, that's not funny," she frowned at him and then saw he was serious. "Why would I even want to do that?"

"I don't know," Castle responded, shrugging. "Some of my mother's married friends live in separate homes – you know, one for her stuff, one for his stuff, and never the two shall meet." He paused for a moment. "You just seemed…so sad…after we packed up your stuff."

Beckett nodded. "I was. That was my home—"

"But the loft's your home now," Castle blurted out.

"Let me finish," Beckett said, silencing him by putting a finger on his lips. "I really haven't lived with anyone since I graduated from the police academy. And when I got my first apartment, that's when I felt independent, you know – an adult. Then that apartment blew up and it took me so long to find this apartment. It had been my home for the last 4 years. It's where I fell in love with you, where we solved my mother's murder. So when you said you weren't going to miss it, I thought you didn't like it. And that made me wonder what else you don't like but haven't told me about."

"Oh," said Castle. "You know me – open mouth, insert foot." He smiled at her. "Kate, I love everything about you – I love all of your stilettos that take up most of the closet – I even love your Nana's beat-up pan. I was just so happy that our stuff was finally co-mingling, since our stuff was already co-mingling." He wagged an eyebrow at her. He thought for a moment and then looked at her, a glint in his eye. "Kate, you know that you can tell me anything and I promise to try to respond in a mature manner. I mean, I thought I took the news of your first marriage really well."

Beckett huffed and rolled her eyes at him.

Castle looked at her seriously then. "Kate, I know you're a private person and moving into a house with 3 other people might be a lot on you right now. I admit it can be a zoo at times. But I'm glad you're finally there. It just feels…right…it feels like home."

Beckett smiled and leaned into him. "Yeah, it does. And I wouldn't trade that for anything."

Castle kissed her lightly on the top of the head. "That being said, we should probably be more careful since there is one, possibly two, serial killers stalking us. And maybe I should hire an armed guard so that your cousin Sophia doesn't get an unpleasant surprise in her new apartment."

The driver pulled up to the curb in front of the building that the loft was in and stopped the car. He quickly got out and opened the passenger door for them.

"Thanks, Ralph," Castle said, helping Beckett out of the car and then giving the man a generous tip for coming to get them on such short notice.

"My pleasure, Mr. Castle."

Castle put his hand on the small of Beckett's back as they walked through the front door of the building.

He looked thoughtful as he punched the up button. "You know, what might be even better is to move to Ft. Knox. Do you think they'd let us do that?"

Beckett laughed as the doors opened and they walked inside.

# # # # # # # #

The floral delivery man watched the couple walk inside the building. Well, that had been fun, but the familiar itch in his fingers was growing to a point that he wouldn't be able to ignore it much longer. He almost chuckled – the FBI investigation was a joke. He was smart and good at hiding. They'd never find him.

He swiped on his iphone and opened up a maps app. Indiana – he hadn't been to Indiana before. He heard it was quite lovely there.

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	4. Chapter 4 The Outcast Returns

Sinning by Silence

Summary – Post 7x09 AU. _**SPOILER ALERT**_** – This chapter and those after have spoilers for the rest of season 7**. What if Beckett's last visit to her old apartment didn't go quite as she planned. Still not light and fluffy like some of the fics out there. This is my interpretation of how some things play out.

_Author's Note_s: Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows – the response has been amazing.

As usual, I don't own anything Castle, just the plot bunnies that bounce around in my imagination.

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**Chapter 4 – The Outcast Returns**

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Smiling wistfully, Castle adjusted the picture sitting on his desk in his new PI office. Jim had taken it at their impromptu wedding – the couple looked extremely happy, relaxed, at peace with the world, not knowing that it was about to crash in on them.

As Kate had said in her Christmas poem, last year had indeed been an epic year, one full of joy and tears. And this year was starting out the same way – joy that they were finally married and tears that they weren't working together anymore since he had been banned from the precinct at their Christmas party.

The first few months had been a little bumpy as they learned dance around this new wrinkle in their relationship. Beckett couldn't discuss what was happening in the precinct's ongoing investigations and, after he became a PI, Castle couldn't discuss his cases with her either.

That might have thrown a curve ball in some relationships, but now, with those topics off limits, they found other things to discuss – non-worked related items that may never have come up if they had been working together. And that had turned out rather nicely as they discovered each other away from the work setting.

But right now, he was in between cases and he was bored, very, very bored.

Castle swiped on his tablet and looked at the bucket list that he had written after his expulsion from the precinct so he could get his life in focus and not spend all day lying in bed ruminating.

Even with the harsh consequences, he knew he had made the right decision no matter the cost – and Kate supported it, supported him. Justice had been served even if it wasn't the kind of justice that the DA and 1PP were happy with because of who had been freed.

After Internal Affairs had investigated the late ex-Det. McBride, they found several other dirty cops and that never sat well with the public, so they had some major public relations work to do to repair their image. So of course, they didn't want the person who inadvertently brought the corruption to light around.

But enough of that – he was starting to ruminate again.

Castle stared at the list and pursed his lips before taking a sip of coffee, wondering what to start on first.

_5. Become a private investigator_.

He smiled as he nodded and checked it off as complete. Beckett had been startled when he had shown up to a case, license in tow and newly hired by the victim's family to find the murderer. That had worked out differently than he had hoped, but his clients had been pleased with the results, and he and Beckett had found a way to make it work.

After that, they hadn't had a chance to work together though.

And much to his surprise, Serena Kaye had even approached him about working a case. He waffled for several moments before his phone rang and Beckett said that Kaye had stopped by the precinct first to ask her permission to approach Rick. So with his wife's approval, Castle and Kaye worked together to solve the mystery of a diamond heist. It wasn't anything like working with Beckett, but they split the finder's fee and his agency made headlines in a good way, which got Paula and Gina off his back about turning in chapters for his new book.

And speaking of that – _4. Write new Nikki Heat book. _

He would actually have to do that pretty soon because the good publicity that ramped up sales could only make his agent and publisher happy for so long. Maybe Nikki would be removed from the NYPD because of some unjustified reason and become a PI – that's a thought…

_3. Find Martha a new place to live_. That had always been a hidden item on his bucket list but it never seemed to work out, he thought with a wiry smile. He really did enjoy her company though.

_2. Go on honeymoon_. Yeah, they still hadn't found time for that. Beckett hadn't mentioned it, but he knew that she was working longer hours. Hell, the team had lost 25% of their brain power – maybe even 50% – when he had been kicked out. And he was getting his business off the ground. Maybe in the summer…

He frowned at the last item on the list and swallowed.

_1. Work with Kate at the precinct again_. And this one was totally out of his control. But then, at one point, he thought being with Kate would never happen either and look how that had turned out.

Castle smiled slightly before taking another sip of coffee and looking at the picture again. His desk phone buzzed.

"Mr. Castle," said his assistant Tambra, "Judge Markway is here to see you."

Castle frowned for a minute. He hadn't seen the judge – or the mayor for that matter – since the rather awkward New Year's Eve party at the mayor's house.

Kate looked stunning that night, but Castle quickly realized that he was the topic of conversation de jour, or rather his ousting from the precinct was, and he had been quietly blacklisted by those in the public eye, like he had been voted off the cool kids' island.

Sure, they called if they needed the famous and wealthy Richard Edgar Castle to endorse a charity benefit or make a donation, but the invitations to late night poker games and early morning rounds of golf quickly dried up for Richard Castle, the man.

He took it all in good stride, his only regret was thinking that this might hurt Beckett's career.

"Thanks, Tambra. Show him in," Castle said into the intercom.

He stood up as Judge Markway walked into the room, looking a little uncertain.

"Judge Markway, it's good to see you again," Castle said, extending his hand.

"Rick," said Markway, shaking his hand. He looked around the room hesitantly and put his briefcase down by the chair. "You've certainly been busy."

Castle nodded and remained silent, using one of Beckett's interrogation techniques that he had adapted to his use as a PI – let the person who came to you tell you what they wanted to in their own time.

"So, I was wondering – are you busy right now?" Markway asked after a few moments. "I mean, do you have any cases right now."

Castle shrugged noncommittally. "I've got a couple in the pipeline. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

Markway nodded slowly and frowned slightly. "It's just that – Rick, my niece was murdered two days ago. She was walking home after work on Tuesday night – the garbage workers found her body in an alley the next morning near where she works. She had been strangled."

"Please extend my sympathies to your sister and her husband," Castle nodded. He had met them at one of the judge's celebrity golf tournaments.

"Thank you," Markway said. "The problem is that the police have no leads in the case. There were no witnesses, no cameras in the area she was found, no evident reason for this murder."

"Maybe a robbery gone wrong?" Castle prompted.

Markway shook his head. "Nothing was taken out of her purse and she still had all of her jewelry."

"Then how can I help?" Castle asked.

"I want you to look into the case – see if you can find something the police missed," Markway said.

Castle nodded. "And what precinct is investigating this?" he asked carefully.

Markway shrugged apologetically. "The 12th precinct. Detective Beckett is the lead detective on the case."

"I see," said Castle, nodding again. No wonder Beckett had been coming home after midnight and then leaving before dawn each morning. This was a high profile case, so it would be all hands on board for the duration.

"Rick, I know this puts you in an awkward position, but we're desperate." He looked at Castle. "And I know that the longer the case goes without any leads, the less of a chance it has of being solved."

Castle looked at the plaque on the wall that Beckett had given him to decorate his office – Vincit Omnia Veritas it read. "I'd be glad to help," he said, quickly making a decision.

"Thank you," said Markway, shaking his head again.

Castle motioned to the chair in front of his desk. "Why don't we go over the details?"

Markway sat down, nodding, deflating a little.

"What can you tell me about your niece? Let's start with her name," Castle asked, pulling a moleskine notepad and pen out of his desk drawer.

Markway nodded, his eyes tearing up slightly. "Danna Tarrent. She works – worked as a legal aide in a law firm downtown."

Castle nodded as he wrote.

"What's the name of the law firm?"

"Billings and Binks – they work with internet law. Apparently it's the newest field to be in. Uh, she worked late Tuesday night. They said she clocked out around 10:30."

Castle nodded. "And where did she live?"

"She had just gotten an apartment with a couple of roommates in Inwood," Markway responded.

There had been a strong cold front blowing in that night. She had probably been rushing to the train to beat it home.

"The ME – Dr. Parish put the time of death around 11 pm," Markway continued.

"You said she was strangled," Castle asked delicately. "Did Dr. Parish say if there were ligature marks?"

Markway frowned as he thought. "Yes, yes," he said. "But the police didn't find the murder weapon. They searched the alley, so whoever did this must have taken it with them."

"And were there any defensive wounds? Could Dr. Parish tell if she put up a struggle?"

"No," Markway shook his head. "I don't think there were."

Castle nodded. So she probably knew the person who murdered her.

"Do you have a picture of her? And the names of her roommates?"

Markway nodded as he opened his briefcase and pulled out a folder and handed it to Rick. "These are all the people we know of. She was studying for the bar, so she didn't have any free time to socialize."

Castle nodded and pulled the contents out of the envelope. He froze when he saw the picture of Danna. She was young, probably 24, and blonde.

# # # # # # # #


	5. Chapter 5 Your Turn Now

Sinning by Silence

Summary – Post 7x09 AU. _**SPOILER ALERT**_** – This chapter and those after have spoilers for the rest of season 7**. What if Beckett's last visit to her old apartment didn't go quite as she planned and some old "friends" showed up to play. Still not light and fluffy like some of the fics out there. This is my interpretation of how some things play out.

_Author's Note_s: Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows – the response has been amazing. Wow – was I worried last night when I tried to access fanfiction from my PC and got the error message – talk about the world going dark. But then it was fixed when I tried this morning – a big thank you to admins for doing that.

As usual, I don't own anything Castle, just the plot bunnies that bounce around in my imagination sometimes keeping me up at night.

# # # # # # # #

**Chapter 5 – Your Turn Now**

# # # # # # # #

Beckett looked at her watch as she unlocked the front door of the loft. Well, she barely made it home before her car turned into a pumpkin and her ball gown turned into rags.

Although the clothes she had had on since 6 am that morning felt old and dirty now.

She couldn't decide what she needed most – food or a shower – because tomorrow and the days after would start just as early as today until they managed to crack this case.

She quietly opened the door, hoping not to wake anyone already asleep, and then stopped and sniffed, smiling curiously, as she put her keys and purse on the table specifically added for that purpose.

Castle's famous pasta carbonara? And lit candles on the table? And the fine china?

"Hey," said Castle as he stood at the kitchen counter and poured her a glass of water out of a crystal decanter. "The finest H2O chilled to 65 degrees." He was still dressed in a button-down shirt and jeans, a little scruff on his chin since he hadn't shaved since that morning.

"Hey," Beckett said back as she opened the locking hidden compartment on the table and stored her service piece there. She took off her coat and draped it on the back of a chair.

"Mmm," she said as she walked over and took the goblet from him, taking a small sip. "Excellent vintage."

"And I wasn't sure if you wanted to eat first or take a bath, which I've also prepared just the way you like it," Castle said.

"Uh, huh," nodded Beckett. She sat the goblet on the counter and crossed her arms, waiting patiently for whatever bombshell Castle was going to drop on her.

He paused for a moment and then pulled her into a hug, and she could feel him trembling slightly as he held her.

"Kate, I know why you've been working late," he finally breathed into her hair. "Judge Markway stopped by my office today. He asked me to look into the murder of his niece, Danna Tarrent."

"Rick," Beckett cautioned and pulled back slightly so she could look at him.

"He's back – they're back – aren't they, Kate?" Castle said softly, worry creasing his brow, as he searched her face. "She's his type – young, blonde, strangled."

Beckett shook her head. "Babe, we don't know that. There hasn't been another murder and we haven't found the murder weapon. Yes, she was strangled, but there wasn't any evidence on the body."

"But they could be," Castle said, remembering what happened the last time Tyson and Nieman had made their presence known. "And it rained that night – heavily. If she had been in the rain all night, the traces could have been washed away."

"If he is – if they are, they're changing their MO again," Beckett responded.

"And that's why the FBI hasn't been able to find them," Castle said, almost morosely.

Beckett leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "So what did you tell Markway?"

"That I'd take the case," said Castle. "Kate, if they're back, I can't just not do anything."

Beckett nodded and then kissed Castle lightly on the neck. She knew he still blamed himself for Tyson getting away in the first place. Maybe this would exorcise that demon.

They stood like that for a few minutes until Beckett's stomach rumbled noisily.

"So did you have anything else to eat today other than the pizza I sent?" Castle asked as he gave her a final squeeze before breaking the hug and walking back into the kitchen to fix her a plate. He may be banished from the 12th, but he still took care of her, having take-out delivered when he knew she'd be working late.

Beckett smiled and shook her head. "No. And Espo said thank you for his order."

Castle smiled slightly. "Happy to oblige." He placed two plates on the table as Beckett sat down, before launching in to a funny story that Martha had shared with him about some stage actors that she knew.

# # # # # # # #

The next morning, Beckett left the loft early again, giving Castle a wake-up kiss on her way out the door. She squealed slightly when he pulled her back against him and deepened the kiss, before putting a hand on his chest and pushing away.

"I'll be home early tonight, I promise," she said, putting a finger on his lips. "Just keep my place."

"Always," said Castle, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Now that he had a case, he had an early morning himself and was eager to get to it.

It wouldn't be daylight for another hour and he wanted to see what the alley looked like in the dark to get a feel for the crime scene. He would then go back after he met with the law firm that Danna had worked for to examine the area in the daylight.

After a quick shower, he dressed and walked into the kitchen, finding Martha there watching the coffee maker. Hmmm, definitely a morning to get coffee out.

"Ah, my favorite son, the working stiff," said Martha. "So what are you up to today?"

"I'm your only son," Castle teased as he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Hence my favorite," Martha said. "Kate was off early."

"Yeah, they caught a case a couple of days ago," he said, trying not to say too much. He looked at his mother for a moment. "You don't have any new students in your acting classes, do you?"

Martha frowned at him for a moment. "No, just the usual suspects. Although Callie recommended her cousin to me. She's going to stop by about 1 today for an audition. Why?"

Castle shrugged nonchalantly. "No reason – just wanted to see how things are going." And maybe a quick visit to her studio around 1 pm to check this cousin out.

"Okay," said Martha, not quite believing him. "You know, if you really wanted to help, you could put out flyers for my studio at your office."

"Got some already," Castle replied quickly. "Although I'm not sure you want unsavory characters in your classes."

"Isn't that what actors are, darling?" Martha quipped.

Castle smiled at her and looked at his watch. "Well, speaking of working stiffs, I need to get to work also."

# # # # # # # #

Castle stopped by the local coffee shop they liked and quickly placed his order, almost adding Beckett's coffee order out of habit. It had been so ingrained in him that he was finding it hard to break.

His first stop was to the alley where the murder had taken place. It wasn't well lit, catching only the light from a street light at one end. This wasn't a place that someone would have walked without having had a compelling reason to do so.

The streets at both ends of the alley were stirring to life, the shop owners getting ready for the day and the trash men picking up yesterday's garbage.

There was a large trash bin near one of the entrances – someone could have hidden there and waited for her. But there would have been defensive wounds in that case and Markway said there weren't.

Did she know her killer? Maybe the defendant in the lawsuit or even the plaintiff? That would be a matter of public record. Maybe another intern in the law firm looking to lessen the competition?

Castle huffed – this would be easier if he hadn't gotten kicked out of the precinct and he and Beckett could bounce theory off each other. But that was water under the bridge that had effectively been burnt.

He traced the route backwards that Danna would have taken from her office. The law firm was a small start-up, focusing on copyright infringement that could occur on the world-wide web. Right now, they were prepping for their first font infringement case, so they opened early and stayed late. Who knew that there would now be font chasers as a profession? Maybe he could use that in a book.

Castle talked to several co-workers and took notes about what they said in response to his questions. He was sure that Beckett had already asked these same questions.

What time did she leave? Around 10:30 that night – she was trying to make it home before the cold front blew in.

Did she always leave at the same time? No, but they had started staying late in the last couple of weeks to prep for the copyright infringement case.

Was she alone when she left? Yes, the other person working late that night had to finish an email so he didn't leave until 11:30 pm and got caught in the cold front. They didn't know if she met up with anyone though.

Did they know of her plans for the evening? Studying, she was studying for the bar, so that was her whole social life right now.

Castle thanked them for their help and gave them his business card in case someone thought of something else.

He then took his time again walking the path that Danna had taken from her office towards the subway, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

It was full daylight when he arrived at the alleyway where the murder had been committed.

He walked to each end of the alley and was making notes of whom to talk to next when he saw Espo and Ryan at the far end of the block.

Looked like the 12th had the same idea also. Well, east was east now and west was west, and never the twain shall meet – he would make his rounds after the detectives had left.

Castle turned back and studied the alleyway. The 12th would have been thorough, so if the murder weapon had been here, they would have found it.

He frowned as he thought. They would have been working in the rain though. A drenching rain had started around 11:15 the night Danna was md and didn't end until about 1 pm the next day. So maybe it had come off and been washed down the drain?

Castle thumbed on his flashlight and directed the bean down the drain. If it had gone down there, it was long gone.

He then knelt, trying to get a different perspective, hoping for inspiration.

Nope, nothing. He stayed in that position until his right knee began to ache. Maybe this was the wrong starting point he thought as he stood.

Suddenly, one of the doors in the alley opened and a young man walked out, holding a bowl. He stopped when he saw Castle.

"Oh, hey," he said, offering a tentative wave.

"Hey," Castle said back. Guess many people didn't come through this alley on a regular basis.

Castle walked over to him. "I'm investigating the murder that happened here the other night."

"Yeah, heard about that – what a shame," the man said.

"You weren't here that night, were you?" Castle asked curiously. "You didn't happen to see or hear anything?"

"Nah – we closed up early that night because of the weather," the man replied. "Besides, with the amount of racket the old dishwasher makes, I doubt we would have heard anything."

"Thanks," said Castle. "Hey, if you think of something, would you let me know?" he asked, pulling out a business card and handing it to the man.

"Sure," the man said, slipping the card into his pants pocket. He walked several feet from the door and sat the bowl down.

Castle frowned at him curiously. "So what are you doing?" he asked.

The man shrugged. "A family of cats lives in the alley. They keep the mouse population down, but it's been cold for a while, so there aren't as many mice. I put out food for them. A lot cheaper than calling the exterminator."

"Thanks," said Castle, nodding and thinking as the man walked back inside the building.

Castle moved to the end of the trash bin and waited as a thought started to form. The cats wouldn't have been out during the rain, but they might have been out earlier…what if…?

It wasn't long before he was rewarded with the sight of a momma cat and several kittens scampering out from boxes on one side of the alley towards the bowl. He watched as they hungrily devoured the food, glancing around nervously between bites.

Castle quietly watched them as they finished and then scampered back to their hideout.

He picked up the bowl and then knocked on the door he had seen the man come out of and waited.

When the man opened the door, he held out the bowl. "Looks like this was a hit," Castle said.

The man laughed and then took the bowl and returned it a few moments later, filled to the brim. "Only because it's cold," he said.

"Thanks," said Castle.

He walked further down the alleyway away from the crates and then placed the bowl on the ground. Wouldn't do to get scratched in the process of tracking down a lead – he wouldn't hear the end of it from Beckett.

Castle quietly walked to the other side of the crates where the cat family lived and waited patiently.

He was rewarded once again as the momma cat and kittens crept out of hiding and approached the bowl.

He kept an eye on them as he quietly approached the crates, picking up a stray stick to rummage inside. The momma cat had made a nice home for her kittens with scraps of materials and papers and…

Castle's pulse sped up when he saw it there lying – a piece of green and white nylon cord. He pulled out one of the plastic bags and a pair of tweezers he now carried out of his pocket for collecting evidence and quickly picked up the cord, placing it carefully in the bag.

A hiss brought him back and he saw the momma cat crouching several feet away from him.

Castle quickly put up his hands and backed away from their home and then turned and raced to the end of the alley on the side he had seen Espo and Ryan a little while ago.

He quickly scanned the area and saw them on the opposite end of the block, talking to a shop owner.

Castle yelled at them and waved, trying to get their attention, while putting the bag in his coat pocket and pulling out his phone to call Beckett.

# # # # # # # #

Espo and Ryan had struck out again on the Tarrent murder. No one had heard or seen anything that night and the videos in the area were of poor quality because of the rain.

They both looked up when they heard their names being shouted.

"Hey, it's Castle," said Ryan as he watched the writer quickly walking toward them on the opposite side of the street.

"Yeah," said Espo as he pulled out his phone and quick dialed Beckett. She had told them that morning that Castle would be working the case also.

"Beckett," came the reply.

"PI monkey is here – what do you want us to do with him?" Espo asked.

"Please don't call him that," Beckett said. "And nothing as long as he's not interfering with your investigation."

"Okay," Espo frowned slightly and ended the call. He still remembered what had happened when Castle had shown up at a case with his PI license in tow.

# # # # # # # #

Much to Castle's dismay, Beckett's phone went directly to voicemail. He kept Ryan and Espo in sight as he walked and talked at the same time.

"Beckett – I found it – the green and white nylon rope – the cats in the alley had taken it. I'm taking it to Ryan and Espo right now. It's Tyson and Nieman."

He stopped at the crosswalk in the middle of the block, waiting for the light to change.

The traffic stopped at the red light and he stepped into the crosswalk.

# # # # # # # #

After she hung up with Espo, Beckett's phone beeped again, indicating that she had a text message. She quickly opened it and frowned as she read, "Your turn now."

Attached was a video – was it a real time feed? Her frown deepened as it showed an intersection in Manhattan and…Castle? She could see Espo and Ryan in the distance, pointedly ignoring the writer.

There was no one else in the crosswalk and suddenly the camera lurched forward and Castle disappeared from view.

# # # # # # # #


	6. Chapter 6 You Can't Be Too Careful

Sinning by Silence

Summary – Post 7x09 AU. _**SPOILER ALERT**_** – This chapter and those after have spoilers for the rest of season 7**. What if Beckett's last visit to her old apartment didn't go quite as she planned and some old "friends" showed up to play. Still not light and fluffy like some of the fics out there. This is my interpretation of how some things play out.

_Author's Note_s: Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows – the response has been amazing. Sorry for the delay in posting. Had a major work crisis and that really plays havoc with my stress level. I think things are more on an even keel right now.

As usual, I don't own anything Castle.

# # # # # # # #

**Chapter 6 – You Can't Be Too Careful**

# # # # # # # #

"So now where? The law firm again?" Ryan asked Espo as the Hispanic detective's phone rang.

Espo shrugged as he answered it. "Beckett, what's up? Castle? Yeah – saw him just a minute ago down the street—"

He was about to add something else when they heard someone yelling, "Oh my god – someone, call 911!"

"Gotta go," Espo said quickly, thumbing off the call and pocketing his phone as they raced down the block to where they saw a crowd gathering.

"That lady just ran over the guy!" they heard as they got closer.

"Police officers – let us through," said Espo, flashing his badge.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea and they saw Castle lying on the ground, moaning in pain and holding his left shoulder.

An older model silver Cadillac Coupe de Ville sat half on the sidewalk and half off, an old woman in the driver's seat, clutching the steering wheel nervously.

Ryan knelt next to him. "Castle, hold on – an ambulance is on its way."

"Ryan," said Castle, clutching the detective's arm with his good hand. "I found it—" he said breathlessly before grimacing and grabbing his shoulder again.

Espo walked over to the driver's door of the car and knocked on the window.

"I am so sorry," the woman said, tears running down her face, after she rolled the window down. "Is the young man all right?"

"Ma'am, can you tell me your name?" Espo asked.

"Adele…Wolfe," the woman said between sobs. "The light turned red and I stopped. Then that young lady dropped the coffee cups she was holding and I looked for just a second." She sniffed again. "Barney was right – Maybelle just has too much power for me. Before I knew it, I had run that poor man down."

Espo walked to the front of the car. There was no dent in the grill, so she must not have been going very fast.

He walked back to the car door. "Ma'am, I'll need to see your driver's license."

The woman nodded and reached for her purse – really a small suitcase – and started to fish through it. "Oh, great jelly beans," she finally said after a while. "If my head wasn't attached, I'd leave it some place too."

She smiled apologetically at Espo, tearing up again slightly. "My wallet must be at home."

Espo was distracted as the ambulance pulled up. "Listen, Mrs. Wolfe, I'll have an officer come take your information and your statement. And then we'll arrange to have someone drive you home. You probably shouldn't be driving right now."

"Thank you, dearie," Adele said, patting his hand lightly.

Espo moved to where Ryan stood as they watched the EMTs examine Castle, carefully removing his coat so they could get a better look at his shoulder. One of them handed it to a policeman who laid it on the hood of a nearby squad car.

Ryan was talking to Beckett on his phone, updating her on the situation.

"Yeah – low speed impact – didn't even put a dent in the car," he was saying. He put the phone on speaker as one of the EMTs stood up.

"Mr. Castle has a dislocated shoulder. We'll be transporting him to Mt. Sinai for treatment."

"Got that, Beckett?" Ryan asked.

"Yes," came the reply. "I'll meet them there."

The EMTs helped Castle onto the gurney, raising the back of it so that he was almost sitting up, carefully stabilizing his shoulder for the ride to the hospital.

Castle looked at Ryan and Espo as the EMTs loaded the gurney in the ambulance. "The rope—it's in my coat pocket," he gasped out before they closed the doors. "Make sure you get it."

Ryan and Espo frowned at one another.

"I'll get the coat," said Ryan, heading off toward the squad car on which the coat had been laying.

Espo walked back over to the Cadillac but found that it was empty. He quickly scanned the area for Mrs. Wolfe and then walked up to one of the uniformed officers standing nearby.

"Hey," he said. "Did someone already take Mrs. Wolfe home?"

The officer looked at him and shook her head. "Not that I know of. You might ask Sargent McKinney," she said, pointing to a man talking to a tow truck driver.

Espo quickly walked over to them. "Detective Esposito," he said as way of introduction. "Did you have someone take Mrs. Wolfe home?"

"Who?" asked McKinney.

"The old woman driving the car," Espo replied, motioning towards the car.

McKinney shook his head. "No, we didn't."

"Then where'd she go?" Espo asked, looking around again.

At that moment, Ryan came up, a worried look on his face. "I can't find Castle's coat anywhere. You think some deranged fan took it?"

Espo shook his head. "I don't know, bro."

# # # # # # # #

Beckett ran through the doors of the Mt. Sinai emergency room entrance, barely avoiding people in her way.

"My husband – Richard Castle – he was brought in by ambulance a few minutes ago," she said to the woman at the front desk.

The woman entered the name in the computer and nodded. "Yes, exam room 5. I'll let you back."

Beckett waited for the door to open and then quickly walked back, looking for exam room 5.

She knew she found the right room when she heard Castle's loud explicative.

"Sir, the worst is over, but we'll be glad to give you something for the pain," came another voice from behind the curtain.

"No, no, I'm good," came Castle's shaky reply.

Beckett pulled the curtain to the room back slightly and stopped when she saw Castle sitting bare-chested on the exam table, holding his left arm against his chest, a deep bruise starting to form on his left shoulder and a sheen of sweat covering his pale face. All she could think of was that this could have been so much worse.

"I would like to run some scans to make sure you didn't hit your head when you fell," the doctor said. "A nurse will be back to get you in a few minutes."

"Okay," Castle replied as the doctor walked out of the room. "Kate," he said urgently when he saw her standing in the doorway. "I found it – the green and white rope. The cats in the alley had taken it. It's him."

Beckett nodded grimly. She had listened to his voice mail and the description of what had happened matched the ME's report about the small scratches on the victim's neck.

"I put it in my coat pocket and was taking it to Espo and Ryan." Castle frowned as he looked around for his coat. "And then the next thing I knew, I was on the ground staring at the grill of a big silver car – it kinda looked like Jaws."

Beckett walked over to him and took hold of his right hand, gently squeezing it. "Babe—"

"Oh, this is bad," Castle said suddenly. "You're calling me 'babe' and holding my hand again. Just tell me that there wasn't any neurotoxin in the car."

Beckett smiled slightly at the quip and then frowned as she shook her head. "No, no – there wasn't."

She let go of his hand momentarily to push a piece of hair behind her ear. "I was talking to Espo when you called. And then I got a text message – it said 'Your turn now.' And there was a video of you on the street corner and then you disappeared."

Castle looked perplexed. "Why would someone do that?"

Beckett pursed her lips before continuing. "Espo talked to the old woman who drove the car, but after the ambulance left, they couldn't find her. And Ryan can't find your coat."

"I don't understand…" Castle said, shaking his head.

Beckett reached for his hand again. "Babe, I think the woman in the car was Nieman and I think she took your coat to get the evidence."

Castle nodded slowly. "So he _**is**_ back – they're back."

Beckett nodded in return as he pulled her into a hug with his good arm.

"We'll get them," he whispered in her ear.

# # # # # # # #

"I can't believe that happened," said Espo as they examined the Cadillac that Mrs. Wolfe had been driving. "She was right there _**and**_ I had her _**and**_ I let her go."

"Yeah," said Ryan, commiserating in their shared experience. "Join the club."

"Found it," said Espo as he pulled a GoPro camera from behind the passenger-side visor.

He could tell from the angle of the video that Beckett sent to his phone where it had been shot from. He carefully bagged the item for CSU and Tory to examine and then thumbed on his phone.

"Hey, Beckett, we found the camera. How's Castle? Uh, huh. Uh, huh. Yeah, we're on our way now."

Espo thumbed off the call and pocketed his phone. A quick search of the DMV had turned up an Adele Maybelle Wolfe, age 87, living in Scarsdale, and he and Ryan were going to pay her a visit.

# # # # # # # #

Mrs. Wolfe's house was an older home with a rocking chair and several bright colored potted plants on the front porch. The light blue paint and white shutters almost gave it a gingerbread-home look.

Espo knocked on the door several times before he heard someone stirring in the house.

The lacy curtains on a front door moved slightly as a gray-hair woman peeked out.

"Can I help you?" came a shaky voice from behind the door.

"NYPD," said Espo, holding up his badge so she could see it.

"You're not in uniform," came the reply. "How do I know you're really policemen?"

"I'm Detective Esposito and this is Detective Ryan from the NYPD 12th precinct homicide division," Espo explained.

"Let me call just to be sure," said the woman.

Espo rolled his eyes as he watched her flip open her phone and dial a number.

"What are your badge numbers?" she asked.

Ryan gave them to her with a disarming smile.

They waited for a few more minutes and then were finally rewarded with the sound of locks being turned.

The woman opened the door.

"Sorry to make you wait, but my late husband Barney said you can't be too careful these days," Adele said. "What can I do for you young men? Would you like to come in for some tea?"

"No, thank you," said Ryan politely, taking out a pad and pencil. "Are you Mrs. Adele Maybelle Wolfe?"

"Yes, I am," the woman nodded. "But everyone calls me Addy."

"And do you own a silver 1984 Cadillac Coupe De Ville?" Ryan asked.

"You mean Maybelle? She belonged to Barney. The 'other woman' I called her," Addy answered.

"And were you in Manhattan around 9:00 am this morning?" Espo asked.

"Oh, I was supposed to be. I had an eye appointment, but the young woman who was going to take me had an emergency," answered Adele.

"So were you driving the car today?" Espo asked.

Addy frowned at him and sniffed slightly. "No, I wasn't. And if Belle and Tom sent you to see if I was, you can tell them that I'm taking them out of my will."

"No, no, ma'am, they didn't," Ryan reassured. "May we see the car?"

"Sure, Maybelle's in the garage around to the side. Let me get the keys," Adele said.

She was back a few minutes later with a set of keys and led them down the path at the side of the house to the detached garage.

Ryan walked around to try the side door while Addy handed the keys to Espo. "Do you mind? My arthritis's acting up, so I'm having a hard time with things."

"Sure," said Espo as he took the key and quickly undid the lock. He put the lock on the ground and then tried turning the door handle.

"The side door is locked," said Ryan as he walked back to the pair.

"That sticks a little, dearie, so you might want to put a little muscle behind it," Addy commented.

Espo tried again and this time, the lock bar slid open. He carefully pushed the garage door up.

"Oh, great jelly beans," said Addy, looking at the empty garage. "Where on earth could Maybelle have gotten off to?"

"Does anyone else have keys to the garage and the car?" Espo asked.

"Well, Belle and Tom have a set, but they haven't been here since last Sunday," Addy said thoughtfully.

"Anyone else?" asked Ryan.

"Only Kelly," replied Addy.

"Kelly?" asked Ryan.

"Kelly Tyson – she stops by a couple of times a week to drive me places," Addy replied. "Lovely young woman, very helpful."

Espo and Ryan looked at each other.

Addy continued. "She had an emergency today though. She said her boyfriend Jerry was sick and she had to take him to the doctor."

# # # # # # # #


	7. Chapter 7 1 on the Bucket List

Sinning by Silence

Summary – Post 7x09 AU. _**SPOILER ALERT**_** – This chapter and those after have spoilers for the rest of season 7**. What if Beckett's last visit to her old apartment didn't go quite as she planned and some old "friends" showed up to play. Still not light and fluffy like some of the fics out there. This is my interpretation of how some things play out.

_Author's Note_s: Merry Christmas to all of you! And my brother-in-law is having major back surgery tomorrow (yeah, when it rains, it pours – it's either have surgery or face being paralyzed). I won't be updating until at least Friday or Saturday, so I leave you with this chapter for the holidays. And no real cats were hurt in this chapter.

As usual, I don't own anything Castle.

# # # # # # # #

**Chapter 7 – #1 on the Bucket List**

# # # # # # # #

The scans had come back clear and Castle finally had had enough and checked himself out AMA because he said they were wasting time.

Rather than going home, he made Beckett drive him back to the alley where he had found the cord, much to her dismay. But she knew that Castle wouldn't be put off in this matter.

"I found it over there," he said as they quickly walked through the alley towards the crates.

He paused when he saw them scattered around, not in the neat pile they had been in when he had found the cord.

"Someone's been here," he said as he walked up to them and looked for the cats that had been living in them.

"They've been here," Castle said pointedly as he looked back at Beckett. "And I think I've found the second victim."

Beckett frowned as she walked up to him and then looked into the crate that Castle had looked into.

The yellow mamma cat lay peacefully in the rumpled papers, the green and white cord tied a little too tightly around her neck.

# # # # # # # #

Beckett laid the sack containing the green and white cord on Gates' desk. "We believe this is the murder weapon in the Danna Tarrent murder," she said as Gates sat back in her chair, listening to the explanation.

Castle, the DA, and police commissioner were also in the office, a hasty meeting haven been called about how they were going to meet the threat of the return of 3XK.

"Castle found it during his investigation," Beckett explained, looking at Castle and then back at the group. "The ME couldn't explain the scratch marks on the victim's neck. They were too small to have been made by Danna if she tried to pull the cord off her neck.

"The cats in the alley must have found the body before the rain started and managed to pull it off. They took it back to their lair. That's where Castle found it. Then Tyson and Nieman saw that he found it and tried to kill him," Beckett said before being interrupted by Castle.

"No, Kate – if they wanted me dead, I'd be dead. That was just a reminder of who thinks they are in control," Castle said. He stood and started pacing. "But I think the cats threw off their plan. You were supposed to find the cord when you found Danna."

"3 murders in 7 days," nodded Gates. "He's already killed one person three days ago, so we expect one today."

"He may have already – killed someone that is," said Castle, frowning slightly. "We found the cord he had used around the neck of the mamma cat in the alley. Technically, she counts – young, blonde, female – and she pissed him off."

"And there were no videos of what happened in the alley?" asked the commissioner.

"No," said Gates. "They picked the location very carefully. And the only video of Mr. Caste's 'accident' was the one that Detective Beckett received."

The commissioner frowned in return and studied Castle for a moment. "Detective Beckett tells me that you researched Jerry Tyson for one of your books and actually met him."

Castle shrugged slightly. "Well, that didn't work out so well."

"So do you consider yourself an expert on Tyson?" the commissioner asked.

Castle shook his head. "No, I think the only expert on Tyson is Kelly Nieman."

"And that's our problem," said the commissioner. "All the evidence against Tyson and Nieman was stolen, so we don't have anything to go on."

He paused for a moment. "Mr. Castle, the city would appreciate it if you would consult with the NYPD on this case."

Castle glanced at Beckett, who looked like she was holding her breath. This is what he had been waiting for all these months, what they had been waiting for all these months, but…

"Sir, what's going to happen when the leads dry up?" Castle asked the commissioner. "Tyson and Nieman attacked Kate three months ago and then disappeared. The FBI pulled out 6 weeks ago because there weren't any viable leads until this week."

"I'm sure we'll find something on them," said the commissioner.

Castle looked at him. "That's not what I asked. Based on what I've read, the NYPD has more than 30 unsolved murders in Manhattan alone. So what happens to this case when it goes cold?"

The commissioner took a deep breath. "Well, per protocol, we'll follow the leads as long as they lead to something. But after that, as much as we don't want to, we'll have to shut the case down until something else happens."

"You mean until they murder someone else," said Castle. He looked at Beckett and then back at the commissioner and took a breath. "Thank you for the offer, sir, but I'm already working a case and I will continue to work the case until I solve it. And I don't care how long it takes."

Captain Gates cleared her throat. "Then may we ask that you share whatever you discover with the NYPD, Mr. Castle?"

Castle nodded. "Of course, Captain." He paused for a moment, looking at the DA. "But as you so plainly pointed out, I have resources that may not be up to your standards."

"We'll take any viable information," said the commissioner, "no matter the source."

Castle nodded and then stood. "Then, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." He paused and kissed Kate lightly on the forehead. "I'll see you at home."

# # # # # # # #

Espo and Ryan frowned at each other as they watched Castle walk out of Gate's office to the elevator and push the down button. They weren't sure what went on, but their curiosity was heightened when Beckett rushed after Castle a few minutes later and Gates closed the door to her office.

# # # # # # # #

"Rick!" Beckett yelled as Castle walked out of the front door of the precinct.

Castle stopped, slumping slightly, turning towards her as she caught up with him. "Sorry," he whispered. "I blew it. I wanted to work with you so badly, but I just couldn't—"

She put a finger on his lips to stop him and smiled. "I know. Just be careful, babe. And don't go anywhere without backup."

Castle smiled at her. "I won't."

"Then I'll see you at home," she said as she kissed him. Her phone beeped at her and she looked at the text. "Gotta go."

# # # # # # # #

Castle smiled at Tambra as he walked into his office.

"OMG, Mr. Castle, are you okay?" she responded when she saw his arm in a sling.

"Oh this, it's just a little scratch," he said. He paused for a moment. "Tambra, I hope this isn't too presumptuous on my part, but I'm going to have to shut down the business. So I asked my publisher and she said there is a position available for you at Black Pawn, if that's alright with you."

Tambra looked at him, slightly shocked. "Uh, sure – that would be great. But—"

"No 'buts'," Castle said, handing her a business card and an envelope. "You've got an appointment with Gina tomorrow morning. And that's a little something for you – I really appreciate everything you've done for me these past couple of months."

Tambra opened the envelope and then looked at him in surprise. "Oh my gosh, Mr. Castle, I don't know what to say…"

"Just remember that Gina really doesn't eat assistants," Castle said.

# # # # # # # #

Castle waited until Tambra had packed her box and left before pulling out a burner phone he had bought specifically for this purpose.

He quickly dialed the number that Dino Scarpella had given him.

"Hey, Dino – yeah, this is Rick. Listen, I need a favor. I'm looking for a man and a woman. You know him as 3XK – Jerry Tyson – and she's a doctor – Kelly Nieman. Yeah, a serial killer and his accomplice. Are you in? Great – any information, any sightings you have on them – call me at any time. Thanks."

Castle hung up and then walked to the Bose CD player that Alexis had given him for his office and put in a CD of the latest CSI soundtrack. The music filled the office as he sat down at the desk and flipped his laptop open and thought for a moment.

Finding information on Jerry Tyson had always been a dead end, but Kelly Nieman – she was a doctor – she had to have a past. And at some point, they had to intersect.

Castle put his fingers to the keys and began to do what he did best – well, what he did second best – as he started his research on the enigma that was Kelly Nieman.

# # # # # # # #


	8. Chapter 8 Zero Degrees of Separation

Sinning by Silence

Summary – Post 7x09 AU. _**SPOILER ALERT**_** – This chapter and those after have spoilers for the rest of season 7**. What if Beckett's last visit to her old apartment didn't go quite as she planned and some old "friends" showed up to play. Still not light and fluffy like some of the fics out there. This is my interpretation of how some things play out.

_Author's Note_s: Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate Christmas! My brother-in-law's surgery went well and he is recovering quite nicely. In fact, he even smiled at lunch yesterday – first time he's done that in months.

As usual, I don't own anything Castle. Just waiting for January 12th.

# # # # # # # #

**Chapter 8 – Zero Degrees of Separation**

# # # # # # # #

Much to Castle's dismay, his prediction came true – the cat had indeed been the second victim, and the third victim, Kerry Mason, was discovered two days later in the basement of the New York library. And it wasn't just any branch of the New York library – it was the branch where Beckett first arrested Castle, and then where Castle had hidden when 3XK had framed him for murder.

Mason was young, blonde, arranged peacefully, a copy of _Raging Heat_ clutched in her hands. She was just unfortunate enough to have a name that could be made out of combining the names of Kelly Nieman and Jerry Tyson.

They were definitely ratcheting this up several notches and the police were stymied at this point.

Beckett re-interviewed Nieman's relatives again but nothing new popped since their interviews a year ago when Nieman became the main suspect in the disappearance of Tyson's information.

The story was still the same – Nieman and her father had a major disagreement right after she graduated from medical school and she had cut off all contact with her family.

There was no footage at the library that showed what had happened. The cameras had been carefully disabled during the estimated TOD.

And there were too many women who matched the profile in the New York City area to watch each one individually, which left the police guessing when and where the couple would strike next. If they stayed true to pattern, the next set of murders would happen in a month.

1PP was not happy with the lack of results and moral at the precinct was dropping quickly because of the pressure being applied not very subtly to solve this case.

Castle and Beckett were running separate parallel investigations, putting in long hours, careful not to discuss the details when they saw each other so that they didn't taint the potential evidence and put the case in jeopardy.

Which is why Beckett was surprised to get a text from Castle one morning two weeks later, asking her to meet him at Nieman's father's house.

# # # # # # # #

Beckett watched the house – no, a mansion, really a small castle – grow closer in the front windshield of her car as she drove towards it on the long winding driveway that curved from the street.

The house and surrounding grounds were impressive and spoke of old wealth and years of privilege, if you took notice of that type of thing. But Beckett had served justice long enough that wealth didn't sway her; in fact, infatuation with money and what it could bring was not in her DNA.

As she stopped the car at the gated entrance near the house and waited to be let in, she let her thoughts wander for a minute as the Castle inside her head spoke. Really, who needed 2 gates, one at the street end of the driveway and one by the house? Did they think they were going to be overrun by zombies and 2 gates would keep them out? Bet they also had a safe room for when the zombies attacked.

Beckett shook her head slightly and focused on the first interview with the parents.

Although Nieman had received several scholarships during her years in medical school, she had still a mound of debt when she graduated because she had specialized. Her father had paid that off, wanting to give his daughter the best start in her practice that he could.

It was shortly after that they had lost contact, much to her father's dismay. He said it was because Nieman objected to him marrying his current wife Thalia, a woman only a couple of years older than Nieman herself.

When Beckett had met with the couple the first time, she had almost checked off the trophy wife box before hearing their story.

The current Mrs. Nieman was about Beckett's age, a dark-haired exotic beauty who spoke several languages fluently. She had been a first-class international flight attendant and met Mr. Nieman on his trips to Asia. Soon after that, he started making business trips just to be close to her.

It had been a fairly long courtship because Thalia was reluctant to be seen as a gold-digger. When they first met, Mr. Nieman and his first wife were in the process of getting a divorce. Mr. Nieman eventually wore her down and they married several years later after the divorce was final.

Beckett came back to the present when the gate opened, and she drove through it and parked beside Castle's car.

A man dressed in a crisp black suit walked up to her door and opened it for her.

"Detective Beckett," he said with a slight official smile, "Mrs. Nieman is waiting for you in the library."

"Thank you, Mr. Almanzo," Beckett replied as she got out of the car.

The man hid his surprise as he closed the door after her. Not too many of the Niemans' acquaintances remembered his name or even used it. His job was to be useful but invisible.

Almanzo opened the front door and escorted Beckett to the library.

The room was true to its name – bookcases lined the walls and numerous books filled those cases, along with knickknacks that spoke of world travels.

Castle and Mrs. Nieman were sitting at a table, heads bowed together, quietly discussing whatever they were discussing.

Almanzo cleared his throat and they looked up.

Beckett almost dropped the notebook she was carrying when she saw Castle.

Rather than being styled, his bangs flopped forward on his forehead and he was wearing thick black glasses. He wore a plaid shirt, solid color-tie, jeans, and a well-worn tan corduroy coat. In short, he almost didn't look like himself. And maybe that was the point?

Thalia stood and offered her hand to Beckett, while Castle stood so that he was to the side of Mrs. Nieman and she couldn't see his face.

"Detective Beckett," said Mrs. Nieman, "I wasn't expecting you. Is there anything else I can help you with? Jerald is out of town on business right now."

Beckett quickly schooled her features. Yep, Castle was a dead man when she got home tonight. "I just have a few more questions, Mrs. Nieman, if you have a couple of minutes. It shouldn't take too long."

"Of course," Mrs. Nieman said. "It's just that I'm in the middle of an interview with Mr. Rodgers," she said, glancing at Castle and then back at her. "Time magazine is doing an article on my husband and his tech company."

"Time magazine?" Beckett questioned, lifting an eyebrow at Castle.

"Alex Rodgers, reporter," said Castle, smiling and extending his hand towards her. "Mr. Nieman was chosen as one of their top 100 tech innovators of the last decade and I opted to do the article. I met with Mr. Nieman last week for the tech part. This week, I'm meeting with Thalia about the family side – the synergy that Mr. Nieman uses to combine family and business into a cohesive unit. And you are…?"

Beckett nodded slowly as she shook his hand. "I see. Ah – Detective Beckett, NYPD homicide."

"Oh, that sounds serious. I can always come back later when you and Detective Beckett have finished," Castle said to Thalia.

Thalia thought for a moment and then shook her head. "No, no, that won't be necessary. We were raked through the mud over this mess with Kelly when the police came last year so it might be good to get our side out." She smiled at Beckett. "So how can I help you, Detective?"

"I just have a few more questions about Kelly," said Beckett. She took a breath and glanced at Castle. He raised an eyebrow at her expectantly and Beckett got the same feeling she got when they built theory together.

"Then why don't we sit?" asked Thalia.

Beckett nodded, sitting down in the chair on the other side of the table and opening her notebook.

"So you said you haven't had any contact with Kelly in the last 10 years, but your husband has kept track of her," Beckett started.

"That's true," Thalia nodded. "She's a plastic surgeon, so it was easy to find out where she was working. I think the last thing he heard about her was that she had gone to Africa to work with children with cleft palates last year. I think it was with some church organization."

Beckett nodded as she took notes and then glanced at Castle again. "And what about her brother, Jerald Jr.? Do you know if he's had any contact with her?"

"No, I don't think he has," Thalia said sadly, shaking her head. "It's a shame; they were so close as children, but the divorce was hard on them."

Beckett nodded again, looking at her notes, trying to think of what question Castle wanted her to ask since it was so evident that he did. He had his poker face on as the polite but not too inquisitive reporter, but she could read his tells.

"Do you know of anyone else who could have had contact with her recently?" Beckett asked. "Perhaps a family friend?" She glanced at Castle – she was definitely warmer. "Or maybe someone who works for you – maybe someone on staff here?" Bingo, she thought, looking at Castle.

Thalia shook her head. "No, not that anyone has mentioned. But they know what a sensitive subject it is with Jerald, so I doubt they'd say anything."

Castle paused for a moment and then carefully added, playing his hand finally, "What about Bret Stony? I was told that Mr. Nieman and his first wife Vivian took him after his mother passed away. Is there any chance that he's had contact with Kelly? Or you recently?" he added almost as an afterthought.

Thalia regarded him for a long moment. "I must say you certainly have done your research."

Castle shrugged with an innocent smile, pushing the glasses up on his nose. "Just part of doing my job."

"That's really old news, so I'm afraid you're going to be very disappointed." She sat back in the chair. "It all happened long before I met Jerald. Ms. Stony worked as the personal chef for the Niemans. Her husband Bret was a Marine and was killed on a training mission during her first trimester. Her son was named after his father.

"They said that Pam never got over the death of her husband and started abusing drugs. The Niemans tried to help her – got her treatment, let her stay in the guest house – but she never recovered. She overdosed when her son was 9."

Castle paused from the notes he was taking. "So they never thought about adopting him? Or sending him to one of his relatives?"

"Jerald tried to find them, but couldn't. I think he's always felt responsible that he couldn't help Pam more." Thalia frowned slightly. "But you can't help someone if they don't want to be helped."

"What happened to Bret?" Beckett asked.

Thalia shrugged. "Jerald sent him to military school when he was 12. He thought the discipline would help him. But then he and Vivian got into a contentious divorce and he never saw Bret after he turned 18."

Castle nodded, pausing from taking his notes again. "It sounds like your husband tried to do the right thing."

Thalia nodded, smiling slightly. "Yes, he did."

"You know, that might be a good angle for the article. That would show his sensitive side," Castle said thoughtfully. "Do you have a picture of Bret that I can have? I might be able to locate him for you if you're interested."

Thalia nodded brightly. "Yes, I think Jerald has a couple in a family album."

She stood and walked to a bookshelf and pulled out a photograph album. "Will this do?" she asked, handing a picture to Castle.

Castle took it and looked at it. "Yes, thanks. That's great. I'll be sure to return it when I'm finished with it."

He carefully put it in his notebook and then closed it. "Well, Mrs. Nieman – Thalia – thank you so much for the interview. I think I have everything I need."

"You're certainly welcome. And let me know if you need anything else," Thalia said. She paused a moment. "And maybe if you find Bret, you can let Detective Beckett know."

Castle nodded and smiled. "Of course. Always glad to help the NYPD."

# # # # # # # #

Castle was already waiting in the parking lot of the local coffee shop he had texted Beckett the address to with coffee when Beckett pulled up and parked by his car.

"So who am I having coffee with – Clark Kent or Bruce Wayne?" Beckett asked as she slid into the passenger seat of his car. "And what the hell was that all about, Mr. Alex Rodgers, reporter for Time magazine?"

Castle nodded slowly. "Yes, I write 'serious' stuff occasionally, but Paula insists I use a pseudo name so it doesn't tarnish my reputation as Richard Castle. But enough of that – Kate, have you heard of 'six degrees of separation'?"

Beckett nodded. "Yeah, it's the theory that everyone is six or fewer steps away by way of introduction from any other person in the world."

He held up the picture that Thalia had given him. "So let me introduce you to Bret Jerald Stony, who, according to one of their nannies, was named after his father if you get my drift. Also known as—"

"Jerry Tyson," breathed Kate as she looked at the picture. The face was different – Nieman had seen to that – but the eyes were definitely the same.

# # # # # # # #


	9. Ch 9 Just a Setting on a Washing Machine

Sinning by Silence

Summary – Post 7x09 AU. _**SPOILER ALERT**_** – This chapter and those after have spoilers for the rest of season 7**. What if Beckett's last visit to her old apartment didn't go quite as she planned and some old "friends" showed up to play. Still not light and fluffy like some of the fics out there. This is my interpretation of how some things play out.

_Author's Note_s: Happy New Year to everyone!

As usual, I don't own anything Castle.

# # # # # # # #

**Chapter 9 – Just a Setting on a Washing Machine**

# # # # # # # #

Now that Castle had discovered the origins of Jerry Tyson, the FBI jumped back in with both feet, and the feet in those high-heeled shoes belonged to one Agent Jordan Shaw. She was currently leading the hunt for a serial killer in Indiana – a high-profile case where the daughter of a mayor of a small town had been murdered, along with two of her friends.

The murders fit the profile for 3XK – the victims were all blonde, young, and strangled with green and white nylon cord, all within the span of one week, shortly after Beckett had been attacked. But since then, the trail had gone cold.

Shaw had immediately flown in when she had heard of the break-through and the NYPD was more than happy to cooperate with the FBI. And the DA was more than happy to welcome Castle back to the precinct with open arms, all sins forgiven, hoping to garner some good publicity from this because they had taken a hit when they dismissed Castle so abruptly.

When the rumor mill sprung into high speed during the holiday season, Castle had downplayed his dismissal on social media, saying that he was pursuing other avenues at that time and that he was grateful for the time that he had spent with the 12th, but 1PP and Captain Gates had actually received some rather scathing hate mail because of the situation and some rather snippy blurbs on page 6.

# # # # # # # #

"And why haven't I gotten pictures of the wedding yet?" Shaw asked dryly, pinning Castle with a look, "since I didn't get another invitation."

"Yeah," chimed in Espo and Ryan as they swiveled to look at the writer also.

Castle smiled slightly in appeasement. "I'll send them right away."

Shaw nodded, pursing her lips slightly. "Good – see that you do."

She turned back to the high-tech murder board that the FBI had set up in the 12th homicide conference room and then pulled up another file. The picture that Thalia had given Castle appeared on the monitor. The boy in it was around 8 years old, sandy-haired, solemn; the woman was blonde, but her face showed the ravages of years of substance abuse. Another picture appeared – this time the boy was older, probably 16, and in military garb, his face still solemn.

"What we've learned so far is that Bret Stony, aka Jerry Tyson, is indeed the son of Ralph Nieman and Pam Stony," Shaw said. "He was born the same year that Jerald Jr. was and two years before Kelly Nieman was born. As a child, Stony attended several private schools but was dismissed because of behavioral issues."

"Hmmm, that could describe my school years," quipped Castle under his breath.

"And again, you kill people for a living," Shaw said, shooting him a look for interrupting her. "While he was in school, he was in a Boy Scout troop, along with Jerald Jr., and the family attended church regularly. In fact, Mr. Nieman's company was one of the major sponsors for the camp at Hollander's Woods."

Beckett quickly glanced at Castle when Shaw said that, but he avoided eye contact with her and appeared to be studying the pictures intently.

"For all appearances, they were the 'normal' American family," said Shaw.

"That raised a serial killer," commented Castle.

Shaw ignored Castle and continued, "Then, when Stony was 12, Mr. Nieman enrolled him in a military academy that apparently took anyone as long as the check cleared the bank. Stony remained at the school until he turned 18. He enrolled in college, courtesy of Mr. Nieman, but never completed his degree.

"We ran facial recognition using the school photograph and have been able to track his whereabouts through DMV photos until he turned 28. He had numerous jobs, lived in several states. After that he dropped off the grid."

Shaw pulled up another picture, this time of Kelly Nieman. "We've looked for intersection points between Kelly Nieman and Stony. She graduated high school at 16, college at 19, medical school at 22, and finished a 6-year residency in plastic surgery at 28."

Castle head snapped up at that. "Tyson said he had changed his looks before—"

Beckett finished, "The timeline would be right. Nieman would have been a plastic resident at the time he dropped out of sight."

Shaw nodded. "During her plastics residency, Nieman worked at free clinics in their plastics program and could have helped him there."

"So now what?" asked Gates.

Shaw frowned. "When Nieman graduated from her plastics residency, her father paid off her school loans and we've been able to track the money she earned as a doctor. However, what we haven't been able to find is the money that her father gave her when they parted ways. From all estimates, it was around $5 million. We assume she's funneling some of that money to Stony."

Beckett nodded. "That's how they've been able to live off grid."

Shaw nodded and looked at Beckett. "We don't think there was time for Nieman to perform facial reconstruction on Stony since they attacked you. We used the drawings that the forensic artist made to run facial recognition in Indiana and New York since that's where we know they've been in the last couple of months and come up with a couple of hits. According to our sources, they are still in the New York area."

The team nodded.

"Have they had any contact with Jerald Jr. or the first Mrs. Nieman?" Beckett asked.

Shaw shook her head. "No, and we haven't found any phone records that say they have."

"So now what?" Espo asked. "We just wait until they strike again?"

Shaw was silent for a moment before answering. "No, and that's where we hope Mr. Castle's contact can help."

Castle looked slightly startled. "You know about that?"

Shaw smirked slightly. "Let's just say it came across our radar. And we think it was an excellent play."

"Yeah, one that got me banned," Castle said under this breath.

Gates frowned at Castle questioningly, while Beckett looked like she didn't know what Shaw was talking about.

"I'm assuming you haven't heard anything," Shaw asked Castle.

"No," Castle said simply, knowing that now was the time to keep his mouth shut.

"Then that means they are probably not in a populated area," Shaw said. "We're watching hospitals, clinics, and medical supply places in New York and the surrounding states in case they decide to stock up on supplies, in addition to monitoring airports, train stations, and bus stations. We've also got forensic accountants looking into where Nieman has hidden her money. Now that we know which direction to look, it's only a matter of time before something pops."

The team nodded again as Shaw looked at Beckett.

"In the meantime, why don't you drive me to my hotel and tell me all about the wedding and the honeymoon," she said.

# # # # # # # #

The stop at the hotel took longer than Beckett had thought because Shaw had grilled her about the wedding that didn't happen, Castle's disappearance, and then the wedding that did happen.

Of course, Shaw would have known about Castle's disappearance even though she didn't work the case. She also confirmed that nothing had popped on her radar during the time he was missing; otherwise, she would have called Beckett immediately.

When Beckett got home, she found dinner waiting on the counter and Castle in his study, looking pensively at old pictures in one of his picture albums. An untouched glass of scotch sat on the desk.

"You okay?" Beckett asked as she walked up behind him and put her arms around him, partly to snoop and partly to give him a kiss on the head.

"Yeah," Castle nodded, frowning slightly. "It's just that that's the second time I've heard 'Hollander's Woods' in a couple of months and it's been years since I thought about it."

Beckett pulled back slightly, looking at Castle. "I clearly remember you saying that you weren't a Boy Scout."

Castle shook his head, smiling wirily. "Wasn't – in fact, I was invited to not join the troop."

"And why do I think there's a story there?" Beckett said, gently prodding.

"Because there's always a story," Castle replied, pulling her into his lap and kissing her.

At that point, Beckett's stomach rumbled and Castle grinned slightly. "Guess your visit didn't include food."

"Too busy talking," Beckett replied as she stood and then pulled Castle out of the chair.

"Anything interesting?" Castle replied as they walked arm and arm to the kitchen.

"All of it," Beckett replied with a smile. She watched as he poured two glasses of wine. "So you want to talk about it now?" she finally asked. "Whatever it was that happened at Hollander's Woods?"

Castle put down the plate he had picked up. "It's definitely not one of my finer moments," he said quietly.

"Worse than the Jordan paper?" Beckett prompted.

Castle was silent for a moment longer before speaking. "It depends," he admitted.

"Then tell me about it," Beckett said, taking his hand and leading him to the couch.

Castle let Beckett settle so that she faced him and then started. "It was the February before I turned 12. I had started a new school that fall and was finally making some friends. One of them, Greg, was big into scouts – in fact, his dad was the troop scout master and his mother was the den mother.

"I attended a couple of meetings and then they invited me to go camping at Hollander's Woods on one of their long weekend trips. We didn't have school on Thursday or Friday or Monday, so we went up Thursday morning." Castle shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "I had never been camping before and thought it was going to be a grand adventure. Mother even borrowed what I needed from some friends of hers who camped."

He was silent for a few moments.

"But it wasn't what you expected?" Beckett asked.

"Yes and no. It was actually a rather strange experience." Castle shook his head as he remembered. "The camping part was what I expected and that was great. We slept in tents. Took long walks in the woods. Sat around a big campfire singing silly songs and telling ghost stories. Stuffed ourselves with s'mores. A uniquely male bonding experience."

"And the 'no' part?" Beckett asked.

Castle sat back on the couch, staring at the flames in the fireplace. "Another troop came up on Friday and they really weren't very friendly. I think I had expected all scouts to behave exactly like their oath said – you know, be cheerful and do a good turn daily – sort of like the perfect troop that Greg was in.

"But several of the boys in that troop were picking on this one boy – I think his name was JR and he couldn't have been more than 9 or 10."

"Castle, these were pre-teen boys. They can be pretty rough," said Beckett.

"Yeah, don't I know," Castle continued. "Anyway, JR had these big braces and huge glasses, so they'd call him 'metal-mouth' and '4 eyes'. And I felt sorry for him. So he and I plotted our revenge."

He took a deep breath. "Mother had just done a summer production of 'The Parent Trap' which I had to sit through numerous times."

"Oh, no," said Beckett, stifling a laugh.

Castle nodded. "So that Saturday night after everyone went to sleep, we snuck into the kitchen and stole a big jar of honey. And then snuck into their tent and poured it over their sleeping bags and shoes."

"Oh, you didn't," said Beckett, not trying to stifle her laugh anymore.

Castle nodded, smiling slightly. "Not a moment I'm really proud of. Anyway, there weren't any bears, but the honey attracted ants and raccoons. And the park ranger saw me leave the kitchen with the honey. They called Mother to come pick me up on Sunday and I never attended a scout meeting again. In fact, Greg wouldn't talk to me at school after that."

Beckett nodded thoughtfully. "So is that what you told Jenkins – about Hollander's Woods?"

Castle shook his head slowly. "Oh, no, that was the humorous side of the weekend – making lemonade when life hands you lemons or hot toddies if you add honey and rum," he answered.

He looked down before continuing. "Greg's mother made me write letters to each of the boys and their parents, apologizing for my actions while I was waiting for Mother to come pick me up. And she also made me write a letter apologizing to my mother for making her come get me. They knew that Mother didn't have the money to cover the cost of cleaning the shoes and the sleeping bags, so they took care of that.

Castle shifted uncomfortably on the couch again. "So I wrote the letters, but in the one to Mother, I apologized but blamed her for us not having a 'normal' life. We moved all the time, so I was constantly transferring schools. I didn't have many friends because of that. I blamed her for me not having a father. I said it was all her fault."

Beckett waited for a few moments before putting her hand on Castle's cheek. "One of my mother's favorite sayings was that 'normal is just a setting on a washing machine'."

Castle smiled bleakly at Beckett. "I know that now, but when I was 11, that was all I wanted – to be like the other kids."

Beckett dropped her hand to take his. "Did Martha read the letter?" she asked quietly.

Castle shook his head. "I don't know. After I wrote it, I left it in the office when I went to breakfast. I was going to tear it up and write another one, but when I got back, it was gone. Greg's mother must have taken it. Mother never said if she read it and I was too scared to ask." He stared at the flames. "So maybe that's what I told Jenkins – how I wrote a letter to my mother that said I hated her. I've never told anyone about that and I was always too embarrassed that I had done something like that to ask Mother about it."

Beckett stood and then carefully settled herself on Castle's lap and kissed him and then wrapped his arms around her, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"I think all children hate their parents at some point," she said softly.

"Did you?" Castle asked curiously.

"Only all the times they busted me for 'defined transgressions'," said Beckett, smiling slightly and making air quotes. "And I'm also sure they know most of us don't mean it."

"Hmmm, you and 'defined transgressions'. Anything interesting?" Castle asked, kissing the side of her head.

"Just the typical teenage stuff – staying out past curfew for concerts; going someplace different than where I had said; getting a tattoo," Beckett replied.

"Thank god Alexis wasn't like that," said Castle.

Beckett's stomach growled again.

"And it sounds like you haven't eaten since lunch," said Castle, gently pushing Beckett until she stood up.

They walked hand-in-hand to the kitchen.

"And the irony of the situation," said Castle as he dished out the dinner onto two plates, "is that I ran into Greg a couple of years later, and his father had run off with the park ranger when he was 13 and the camp at Hollander's Woods closed the summer after we had been there. So I guess there really isn't a 'normal' family."

# # # # # # # #

The next morning, Beckett found Castle staring at the photographs again as he drank his morning cup of coffee.

"You on to something, babe?" she asked.

Castle frowned slightly and then looked at her. "One of the things we don't know is why Tyson always kills in 3's. His mother, I understand – even the first Mrs. Nieman, who looked like she could have been his mother's older sister. But the third?"

He paused. "One of the traditions at Hollander's Woods was to create a time capsule from each camping trip; save something significant to rediscover later on." He paused, thinking. "If Tyson really did go there, he may have left some clues as to why he does that."

Beckett nodded thoughtfully. "You're thinking about going up there?" She frowned at him. "You're not thinking of trespassing again?"

"No, no – learned my lesson on that one," Castle said. "So while you and Shaw were having your little tête-à-tête yesterday, I was talking to the people who own the property and obtained their permission to be on premises. In fact, Mr. Moore is going to meet me there at noon to let me in."

"Well, just stay in touch," said Beckett.

"Always," said Castle as Beckett's phone beeped.

"That's Jordan. We're going to interview Jerald Jr. again this morning and see what he really knows."

# # # # # # # #


	10. Chapter 10 Ishmael and Isaac

Sinning by Silence

Summary – Post 7x09 AU. _**SPOILER ALERT**_** – This chapter and those after have spoilers for the rest of season 7**. What if Beckett's last visit to her old apartment didn't go quite as she planned and some old "friends" showed up to play. Still not light and fluffy like some of the fics out there. This is my interpretation of how some things play out.

_Author's Note_s: Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows. Your support really means a lot. 8 days and counting! Yeah! I was going to try to finish this this weekend, but that's not happening.

As usual, I don't own anything Castle, only my copies of the books and the DVDs.

# # # # # # # #

**Chapter 10 – Ishmael and Isaac**

# # # # # # # #

"That was a great piece of investigative work," Shaw said as she and Beckett rode the elevator up to Jerald Jr.'s office on one of the top floors of a skyscraper in lower Manhattan. "How did Castle make the connection?"

"Apparently when you want to 'find the dirt' on the rich and famous, you go to the 'sources of all knowledge' – their personal service providers," Beckett said, making air quotes as she channeled Castle.

"Personal service providers?" Shaw questioned. "That sounds rather nefarious."

"Personal trainers, hair stylists, makeup artists, nannies, assistants," Beckett answered as she rolled her eyes slightly. "In this case, it was the hair stylist that Mrs. Nieman used during the divorce."

"Really?" Shaw asked. "That was around 30 years ago. How did Castle ever find her?"

Beckett paused for a moment, making sure she got the connections correct before speaking. "The stylist Martha goes to is the nephew of a hair dresser who works for the Met who knows the make-up artist for the New York City Ballet who is the cousin of the woman who owns the bakery next to the beauty shop that the woman rented a station at."

"Wow," commented Shaw, nodding.

"Yeah, apparently they gossip like a gaggle of geese," Beckett said dryly. "And Bret's parentage was one of the hot topics back in the day."

Shaw nodded again as she watched the floors tick by. "So," she said, turning to look at Beckett, "now that you're one of the rich and famous, have you found your all-knowing personal service provider?"

Beckett smirked at her. "I am neither rich nor famous," she answered. "And yes, I have," she said over her shoulder as the doors opened and she walked out.

The reception area was wide-open, with an amazing view of the waterfront. The décor was all glass and metal, giving both a transparency and sharpness to the setting, its sole purpose to impress clients.

A young woman in a black pencil skirt and white button-down blouse sat behind the reception desk and smiled pleasantly at them when they walked up.

"I'm Detective Beckett, NYPD Homicide, and this is Agent Shaw of the FBI. We're here to see Mr. Nieman," Beckett said.

"Is he expecting you?" the woman asked, still smiling slightly.

"Yes, he is," answered Shaw.

"It will be just a moment," said the receptionist as she buzzed his office.

Jerald Jr. quickly poked his head out from behind the frosted glass doors that led back to the offices.

"Thanks, Cindy," he said and then looked at Beckett. "Detective Beckett."

He quirked an eyebrow at Shaw as he held the door open for them. "First office on the right," he said as way of direction.

Beckett was surprised to find that his office was not the one in the corner with the magnificent view but a rather utilitarian one at the front with no windows and the only office with a solid wood door in a sea of glass doors. There was another door on the opposite side of the room.

Jerald Jr. smiled slightly as he noted them take note. "I have an open door policy here, but there are times when I need to have a closed door, especially when someone wants to discuss new ideas…or changes they think need to be made. This way, the rumor mill doesn't run rampant."

Beckett nodded. "Mr. Nieman, this is Agent Jordan Shaw of the FBI," Beckett said as way of introductions.

"Agent Shaw," Jerald Jr. said, standing and holding out his hand. "Please, have a seat." He looked back at Beckett. "You said you have some more questions? Have you found out something about Kelly?"

"Yes," said Beckett, nodding. "But it's not about Kelly – it's about your brother."

Jerald Jr. looked at her askance and then shook his head. "I'm afraid you've been misinformed. I don't have a brother."

"Mr. Nieman, we know that Bret Stony is your half-brother," Shaw stated.

Jerald Jr. stared at them, mouth opened for a moment, and then nodded as if things were falling into place.

"That damn bastard. My father – not Bret," he quickly added, looking at them. "It all makes sense now – why he let Bret stay with us after Mrs. Stony died. He said he couldn't find any relatives."

"But your father never adopted him or became his legal guardian," Beckett added. Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she pulled it out to quickly glance at the caller ID, but all it said was 'unknown caller'. She put the phone back in her pocket without answering it.

"No, Mother wouldn't allow it," Jerald Jr. nodded, eyes narrowing in remembrance. "She never got along with Mrs. Stony – for obvious reasons now."

"Do you think your sister knew?" Shaw asked.

"Yeah, yeah – I think she did." He leaned forward slightly. "When she was doing her residency, she became interested in DNA. She wanted to test all of us, including Bret, but my parents were reluctant. Now I know why. She must have done it without their knowledge and then confronted them with the news."

Beckett nodded, frowning slightly. "There's something else you should know, Mr. Nieman." She paused. "We think that Bret Stony is Jerry Tyson, also known as 3XK, and we know that your sister is helping him."

Jerald Jr. paled slightly. "The serial killer?" he finally got out. "I thought he was dead – shot by police on a bridge several years ago."

Beckett shook her head. "He had planned that so we would quit looking for him. But he showed back up a couple of months ago along with your sister," she said simply.

Jerald Jr. slumped back in his chair. "It's all my fault," he said quietly after a few moments.

Beckett's phone vibrated again, but she ignored it. "I don't understand – why is it your fault? You didn't know he was your brother," she prompted.

Jerald Jr. shook his head, brow furrowing, a pained expression on his face. "But I knew something was wrong with him." He stood and started pacing. "When we were in scouts, we used to go camping at Hollander's Woods. There was a tradition of creating time capsules on each trip – something we could look back on later. We'd put something important in a shoe box that no one else was supposed to see and then we'd put the shoe boxes in a container and bury the container."

"And?" Beckett prompted.

"I saw what Bret put into his box one time." He stopped speaking and ran a shaking hand through his hair, and then looked at Beckett. "It was the park ranger's cat. It was dead."

"And you didn't tell anyone about that?" Beckett asked.

Jerald Jr. shook his head slightly as if to bring back the memories. "I did – I told my mother. She said she'd take care of it." He looked at them with slightly watery eyes. "They sent Bret to a military school that fall. I never saw him again after that."

"So you have no idea where he could be? Or Kelly for that matter?" Shaw asked.

Jerald Jr. shook his head again. "No, I haven't seen Kelly in years. She stayed with my father after the divorce and I went with mother." He thought. "The last time I saw her was when she graduated from medical school."

Beckett nodded as her phone vibrated again. "Do you have any contact with your father?"

Jerald Jr. nodded. "We meet for business once a month. He's a board member of my company."

Beckett nodded again. "So you don't know if he's had any contact with your sister?"

Jerald Jr. shook his head. "Not that he's mentioned."

"Do you know why the camp at Hollander's Woods was closed?" Beckett asked.

Jerald Jr. shrugged. "I'd heard that one of the neighbors didn't like having the camp there – apparently someone was vandalizing his property and he threatened legal action."

Beckett nodded again. "And what happened to the time capsules?"

"Uh, on our last camping trip there, we dug up the boxes and burnt them – sort of a way of finding closure," Jerald Jr. said.

"Thank you," said Beckett as she and Shaw stood. "And please call me if your sister contacts you."

Jerald Jr. nodded. "You'll be the first to know – after I call 911."

# # # # # # # #

"So who do we go see first – the father or the mother?" Shaw asked as they got into Beckett's car.

Beckett was about to answer when the car jolted slightly forward.

"What the—" Shaw said, turning to look at the car that had rear-ended them.

"Welcome to New York," said Beckett as she opened the door to get out of the car and confront the person in the other car.

She walked to the driver's side and then stopped when she saw who was driving.

"You're a hard woman to get ahold of, Detective Beckett," said Carlucci. "We've been calling you all morning."

"And the only way you could think to get my attention was to hit my car?" Beckett responded.

"Apparently since you and Mr. Castle ignore your phones. I have a message from Mr. Scarpella for him," Carlucci retorted. "That couple he is looking for – they were spotted by a cousin near Hollander's Woods this morning."

"Are you sure?" Beckett demanded.

"They matched the pictures," Carlucci said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business elsewhere."

Beckett pulled out her phone as she raced back to her car. She quickly dialed Castle's number, but it went directly to voice mail. "Castle, call me immediately when you get this. Don't go to Hollander's Woods. Nieman and Tyson were spotted near there this morning," she said and then hung up.

That caught Shaw's attention. "Isn't he there already?"

Beckett nodded as she dialed another number. "Espo, I need to get state troopers out to Hollander's Woods immediately. Neiman and Tyson are in the area and Castle's there."

# # # # # # # #


	11. Chapter 11 What Makes You Tick

Sinning by Silence

Summary – Post 7x09 AU. _**SPOILER ALERT**_** – This chapter and those after have spoilers for the rest of season 7**. What if Beckett's last visit to her old apartment didn't go quite as she planned and some old "friends" showed up to play. Still not light and fluffy like some of the fics out there. This is my interpretation of how some things play out.

_Author's Note_s: Happy Tuesday to everyone – 6 more days! And how creepy is it that I was watching 'Probably Cause' while writing this? And 'Serenity' was also on.

As usual, I don't own anything Castle.

# # # # # # # #

**Chapter 11 – What Makes Us Tick**

# # # # # # # #

Castle quietly walked the trail from the parking lot to the still standing lodge of the camp at Hollander's Woods, not so much to not telegraph his presence, but to enjoy being in the woods and away from the constant stream of noise that inhabited New York City.

As a child, he spent most of his time in areas surrounded by development, including the parks in New York that Martha had taken him to. And even though it had ended badly, he had been bitten by the proverbial camping bug when he came here with Greg. When Alexis was growing up, he made sure to include frequent trips into the wild in their schedule so they could both be close to nature.

The traffic to Hollander's Woods had been exceptionally light that morning, so much so that he had arrived much earlier than expected. When he had called Mr. Moore, the man was more than happy to meet him at the local greasy spoon for breakfast before he and his wife went antique shopping.

While they ate, Mr. Moore told him about the history of the property. Mr. Moore's great-great-grandfather had bought the property in the 1850's and named it Hollander's Woods after his mother.

The family had almost lost it during the Great Depression, but managed to hold on to it by the skin of their teeth, but then the property taxes had skyrocketed and none of the current heirs were interested in keeping the property.

Mr. Moore had been an Eagle Scout and had wanted to make a difference in the lives of young men, so, with the blessings of the rest of the family, he had donated the property to the Boy Scouts about 40 years ago.

The camp had fared well for about 12 years, being conveniently located about an hour north of Manhattan and near Ward Pound Ridge Reservation. It was an excellent place for a camp, until one of the neighbors had filed a civil suit against the camp, stating that the boys were vandalizing his property and killing his animals. However, no dead animals were ever found and none of the boys knew anything about that, stating that this was the work of the infamous ghost of Hollander's Woods – the one who stole items and created general mayhem.

Not wanting a lengthy trial, the council decided to close the camp and now, the State of New York was eyeing the property to add to the nearby reservation.

Since Moore was a member of the council, he was given the task of overseeing the property until the acquisition took place.

He handed Castle the key to the gate and told him to stay as long as he wanted, but not past dark – not because of the spooky apparition but because a pack of dogs roamed the area and the park rangers hadn't been able to catch them yet. And the fact that cell phones didn't work in the area.

Castle parked in the grassy area that used to be the parking lot and then climbed up the steep trail towards the lodge. He paused for a moment at the top and surveyed the area – it had been a while, but he definitely remembered lugging his camping gear up that trail – and then walked to the lodge.

It was remarkable – a miracle really – that the building was still standing as decrepit as the it was. He slipped on a pair of gloves and then carefully opened the door, not so much as to startle anything that might be inside, but to make sure the door wouldn't come off its hinges and hit him in the head when he opened it.

The building had numerous windows that let in some light, giving the room a dappled effect, but they didn't let in enough light to do a search.

He clicked on the flashlight he had brought and did a quick sweep of the room before entering, shivering slightly as he remembered the stories told around the campfire about the soul-sucking specter that haunted the woods.

Cobwebs and dust covered what remained of the furniture, and there were signs of animal infestation on the flat surfaces.

Turning off his flashlight, he walked back out onto the grounds and past the lodge to the spot where they had buried the boxes. He was sorely disappointed to find a deep indention where the boxes had once been buried. Grass and weeds had grown over the site so someone must have dug them up years ago.

Castle walked back to the lodge, not sure what he had expected to find – maybe the smoking gun that would link everything together.

He walked back inside the lodge and swept the room again with his flashlight and then paused when he saw the pattern in the dust on the floor by what had been the storeroom. From the marks in the dust carpet, it looked like the door had been opened recently, but it was now closed. No animal could have done that. Maybe it was the ghost, his writer's imagination quickly added – even worse, some wanted fugitive who had made this his lair.

Castle pulled out his cell phone as he carefully walked over to the door and then knelt, snapping a picture under the door to see what was inside the other room.

The room was empty, so he slowly opened the door and walked in, sweeping the room once again with the light from his flashlight.

It was obvious that someone had been staying here. A case of water sat in the corner, along with boxes of freeze-dried food. Several survival blankets lay on top of an air mattress.

He took pictures of the items and sent them in a text message to Beckett, hoping that they would go through.

He then walked over to the metal shelves in the other corner where several shoe boxes sat and frowned. These looked like the boxes they used to create their time capsules, but they hadn't been buried – there was no sign of the decay that would have been present if they were in the ground. The tops of some of them were covered by dust, but a few looked like they had been recently opened.

Castle took one of those off the shelf and sat it on the table before carefully opening it. Inside was—a skeleton of a small animal on top of some pieces of paper?

He snapped a quick picture and sent that to Beckett, and then carefully moved the skeleton to the side so he could pick up the paper.

Castle recognized it immediately – it was the letter he had written to his mother – why would someone have put it in a time capsule? And then froze as he looked at the bottom of the box – a piece of green and white cord lay inside.

His head snapped up at the memory – they had used green and white cord to make bracelets for their mothers on the camping trip he had gone on.

He snapped another picture and then pocketed his phone before rushing to the door. He was sure that Tyson had been here and had to get back to civilization to call Beckett and have CSU come sweep the place.

The only thing he remembered after stepping into the main room was a blinding flash and loud noise that knocked him off his feet.

# # # # # # # #

The next thing Castle became aware of was that it was cold because he wasn't wearing his coat any longer and that his arms were tied to the bottom of a wooden chair that sat in the middle of the storeroom.

"Once again, Rick, you've ruined my plans," said Tyson. "First it was 4 years of careful planning that you destroyed and now it's another 4 years of planning down the drain."

"You could always give yourself up," Castle retorted. "I texted Beckett – they're on their way."

"Cell phones don't work here," said Tyson. "And we'll be gone before then."

Castle looked over at the boxes. "So did you keep all of the animals that you killed? That everyone blamed on the ghost of Hollander's Woods?"

Tyson ignored him as he knotted a rope around Castle's neck and tied it to the bottom rung of the chair.

"And the letter to my mother? Why?" Castle asked.

Tyson smirked. "You know, I was really disappointed that you didn't recognize when we met again. But camp was a long time and several faces ago. Maybe this will help," said Tyson as he pulled out a pair of glasses and slipped them on. "And imagine me with a mouth full of metal."

Castle stared at him. "JR?" he finally said.

"Affectionately known as Jack Rabbit because of the buck teeth – or 'metal mouth' – or '4 eyes'. It's amazing what a little surgery will do for a man's confidence," Tyson remarked. "You know, I really appreciated it that you stood up for me, so I let your first indiscretion slide."

Tyson picked up the paper off the table and looked at it. "'Mom'," he read, "I hate you. Why can't you be like a normal mom? Why do you have to be different?'" He looked at Castle. "Tell me, when you murder people in your books, are you releasing your rage and killing your mother in proxy?"

Castle studied him silently for a few minutes. "No, when I write my books, I'm wondering what could have happened to the JR I knew to turn him into a cold-blooded killer."

Tyson smiled humorlessly. "Then you didn't know me at all."

The door opened and Kelly walked in. "I've got the car packed," she started and then stopped. "Bret, this isn't what we agreed on. We agreed just like Hodges and Santos."

Tyson ducked his head slightly. "It'll take longer this way."

Kelly frowned and then nodded after a moment. "Okay. This time only. Next time we'll stick to the plan. I'll get my bag."

Castle studied Tyson as she walked out of the room. "Tell me, Jerry – you kill in 3's. I get the two people – your mother and Mrs. Nieman. Hell, I'd probably do her in also if I had to live with her – at least on paper. But why the third?" Castle paused. "Do you kill the third person because you can't kill the one person you really want to kill?"

Tyson shrugged. "Not my type," he said simply.

"Or is it because she controls you and without her, you're nothing?" Castle asked. "Is that what makes you tick?"

Tyson's response was immediate as he whipped the gun across Castle's face, cutting his cheek. "Don't presume to know me," he growled, inches away from Castle's face. "Otherwise—"

"Bret," came the soft voice behind him in a slight reprimand. "What have I told you about breaking your toys?"

Kelly put the bag she was carrying on a table as Tyson straightened and moved away from Castle. "Take the boxes out and burn them in the fire pit, and then meet me at the car."

Tyson carefully schooled his face and then gathered the remaining boxes off the shelf and walked out the door.

Kelly put her hand under Castle's chin to lift his face so she could inspect the damage and hummed slightly. "Too bad I don't have time to fix that. But then, the mortician should be able to cover it up."

Kelly turned and pulled out a syringe and vial out of the bag. She inserted the needle into the vial and filled up the syringe and then tapped on it out of habit before turning to Castle.

"You look tense – this should help with that," she said as she approached him.

Castle shook his head. "Nope – not tense at all."

"That's what all men say," Kelly said smiling as she inserted the needle into his arm through his shirt sleeve and depressed the plunger. "There. See all better – that is, until you lose consciousness and slump forward. Then you'll simply strangle yourself with your own body weight."

She patted his cheek as she watched him for a moment, smiling as his eyes closed and then blinked open again. She picked up the bag and then paused, watching Castle struggle to keep his eyes open.

"See – just a matter of time now. We'll give our regards to your widow," she said as she walked out of the room.

# # # # # # # #

Castle waited until he heard Kelly shut the front door of the lodge and then opened his eyes quickly.

Fortunately, their plan had one fatal flaw ('Too soon,' said the Beckett voice in his head). Whether it was because of his size, his metabolism, or just a quirk of nature, muscle relaxants took longer than normal to work on him.

They hadn't discovered this until the time he had his wisdom teeth removed after high school. The dentist had given him a muscle relaxant when he arrived and then had come back 10 minutes later, ready to start the procedure.

And he was amazed that Castle was still talking, very coherently, to the young dental assistant he was trying to pick up. So the dentist had sent in his office manager to sit with him with the drug took effect. But that only postponed the effects because Castle saw the small medical tattoo she had on her wrist and that started a conversation of serving overseas in a mobile medical unit.

He had eventually succumbed to the effects of the drug though, so he estimated that he had about 20 minutes before the effects kicked in.

All he had to do was get out of these ropes. He carefully craned his head around, looking to see what he could use. There – one of the shelves had a broken glass on it. Maybe he could use that to cut the ropes.

He grabbed the bottom of the chair and carefully stood up, bending forward slightly so that the chair was in the air, and moved towards the shelves.

The only problem was that the shelf with the broken glass was higher than he could reach tied the chair and his back was starting to cramp.

He sat the chair back down and then paused as he felt it give away slightly.

Rankin, his mind thought quickly as he remembered a story from around the campfire. Scout Master Rankin had sat in one of these chairs and it simply disintegrated under him. He could use that, he thought, remembering at the last minute not to nod.

Castle stood again and then slammed the chair back down, feeling it give again. But this could also end badly, he thought as he remembered how his back felt when the chair collapsed under him at the precinct.

Time – he was running out of time – he had to do something and quickly. The metal shelves in the corner – he might be able to use those and break the chair or at least part of it before he strangled himself trying.

He picked up the chair again and maneuvered it so that one of the back legs was caught between the rods of the lower shelf and then slowly started to twist it.

He was finally rewarded with a loud crack as the back leg splinted away from the rest of the chair. The room was starting to move slightly as he slipped the rope from under the chair and picked up the piece of glass on the shelf to cut the ropes.

Now free, Castle stumbled to where his coat lay and patted the pocket. His keys were still in his pocket, but his phone was gone – they had either taken it or destroyed it. But he had a burner phone in his car, something he had learned in survival training, and he could use that.

He pulled out the keys and stumbled towards the door.

# # # # # # # #

In a scene straight out of the movies, Jordan and Beckett arrived in an FBI helicopter and the state troopers pulled up just as Kelly was driving out of the gate at Hollander's Woods.

Hands in the air, she slowly got out of the car with a smirk on her face.

"Where's Tyson?" Beckett yelled, pointing her gun at the doctor.

"Haven't seen him," Nieman answered. "We were supposed to meet here, but he didn't show. So I was just leaving."

"Where's Castle?" Beckett asked, looking around for Castle's car, as Jordan cuffed the woman.

"Shouldn't he be with you? He's your partner after all," replied Nieman.

Beckett looked up the trail. "The lodge is about ½ mile up the trail. Tyson's probably there."

"Let's get eyes on then," said Jordan as she motioned to the helicopter pilot.

He took off and slowly circled the area, reporting his findings. Someone had set a small fire behind the lodge, but there was no sign of anyone in the area.

# # # # # # # #

Tyson watched the scene unfold before him from behind a copse of trees near the top of the trail. He had two choices – stay hidden and stay free, or shoot it out with the police and have a chance of rescuing his sister. He'd stay hidden if it was all the same. And then maybe have a chance to free her later on.

Or maybe he should shoot it out, starting with Beckett. That might give Kelly time to get away and he'd survived in the woods before.

Tyson pulled out his gun and aimed it at Beckett. Yes, this would work, he thought as he squeezed the trigger, only to be knocked down at the last minute as the shot went wide, scattering the people below him.

He rolled away and aimed the gun at whatever had knocked him down, only to pause for a moment as he saw Castle looming over him.

Castle clumsily knocked the gun out of the way as he lunged for Tyson again, grabbing him in a bear-hug to prevent him from shooting again.

What Castle hadn't counted on though was that drug was finally kicking in and they were on the edge of the top of the trail.

As they grappled, the gun went off again and they tumbled down the embankment towards the parking lot.

When they hit the bottom of the trail, both men were dazed by the impact and covered with blood.

# # # # # # # #


	12. Chapter 12 The Better Bad Choice

Sinning by Silence

Summary – Post 7x09 AU. _**SPOILER ALERT**_** – This chapter and those after have spoilers for the rest of season 7**. What if Beckett's last visit to her old apartment didn't go quite as she planned and some old "friends" showed up to play. Still not light and fluffy like some of the fics out there. This is my interpretation of how some things play out.

_Author's Note_s: Congratulations to the cast and crew of Castle for the 3 wins at the People's Choice Awards! Sorry for the delay in posting – my schedule changed so I don't have as much time for writing as I did before – really sad face. And thanks for hanging in there and I hope to have this wrapped up in the next chapter (just so you know). Yeah, it's Monday night again! New Castle episode.

As usual, I don't own anything Castle.

# # # # # # # #

**Chapter 12 The Better Bad Choice**

# # # # # # # #

The thud of the two bodies hitting the bottom of the slope spurred the people who were crouched behind cars in the parking lot into action.

"Him! He's Jerry Tyson!" Beckett yelled as she raced over to where the men sprawled in the grass. "Cuff him!" she said pointing at one trooper and then at Tyson. "Call for medical help!" she said, pointing at another trooper.

As 3XK stirred and groaned, the nearest state trooper kicked the gun away from him and rolled Tyson over, planting a knee in the middle of his back as he quickly handcuffed his hands behind his back.

Beckett knelt next to Castle and gently put a hand on his cheek.

"Castle," she said in a quiet, calm voice. "Hey, it's me. Rick – babe – it's time to wake up."

She frowned when she didn't get a response and let her eyes roam over him in search for obvious injuries. There was a cut and bruise on his cheek and another bruise on his forehead, and blood stained parts of his face and the front of his shirt. Angry red ligature marks ringed his throat. She reached forward to carefully touch them – unlike the fake ones she had been given, these were real.

She glanced over at where 3XK lay, the officer putting pressure on a wound on his arm to stop the bleeding – that's where the most of the blood on the two men had come from.

"The ambulances will be here in 3 minutes," said Shaw, kneeling next to them. "How is he?"

Beckett shook her head, frowning, and pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. "He's not responding."

She looked up at the path that led to the lodge. Had he hit his head on the fall down the hill? Or was something more sinister going on here? Nieman and Tyson had given her haloperidol to knock her out – had they done the same thing to Castle?

Beckett rose and quickly walked over to the car where Nieman sat in the back seat. "What did you do to him?" she demanded as she yanked open the door.

"I have no idea what you mean, Detective Beckett," Nieman said, seemingly surprised by the accusation. "Maybe he hit his head on the way down? That was a rather nasty tumble."

"You seem very calm about this," Beckett replied.

"There are always obstacles to be overcome," Nieman said, tilting her head slightly. "I trust my brother wasn't too damaged."

Beckett regarded her for a moment and then quickly walked back to Shaw, who still knelt beside Castle.

Beckett knelt down and took Castle's hand, gently squeezing it to see if he responded. "I want CSU to turn the car she was driving upside-down. When they were at my apartment, they sedated me – I think they may have done the same thing to Castle."

She looked up at the sounds of sirens as the ambulances pulled into the grassy area.

The lead state trooper met the EMTs to explain the situation and a pair quickly walked over to Beckett, who immediately snapped into police mode.

"The victim's name is Richard Edgar Castle, age 42. I'm his wife, Katherine Beckett." She paused – she still got a thrill out of saying that. "He fell down that hill, but he may have been given haloperidol before to knock him out."

One of the EMTs knelt and started to assess Castle's condition, while the other EMT pulled out a tablet to take notes on.

"Mrs. Castle—" he started.

"Beckett," Beckett responded. "I kept my maiden name," she quickly explained.

"Ms. Beckett," the EMT corrected. "Is your husband taking any prescription medicine?"

Beckett shook her head. "No, he isn't."

When Castle had broken his knee, Beckett had been the one to fill out all the paperwork at the hospital after a quick phone call to Martha who had provided the information.

"And is he allergic to anything?" the EMT continued.

"No, he isn't," Beckett responded.

The EMT nodded as he made notes. "And he fell down that hill?"

"Yes," said Beckett nodding.

The man looked at the hill and estimated the distance, and then looked back at Beckett.

"And you said he might have been given haloperidol before that?" the EMT asked.

"Yes," Beckett replied, nodding. "He's been unresponsive for about 10 minutes."

The EMT nodded and then looked at his partner.

"Heart rate and breathing are slow and the pupils are constricted," said the EMT as he lifted up each of Castle's eyelids and shown a light into his eyes.

The first EMT nodded as he entered the information and then looked at Beckett. "We'll be transporting him to Northern Westchester Hospital. Would you like to go with us?"

"We've got this," Shaw said, looking at Beckett. "Call me when you know something."

Beckett nodded. "Thanks."

The EMTs quickly put a cervical collar on Castle before rolling him onto his back and then carefully lifting him onto the gurney that had been lowered to almost ground-level.

Beckett followed them to the ambulance, where they worked a few more minutes to stabilize Castle before leaving.

# # # # # # # #

The wind was howling again and the small boat tossing violently, making his aching stomach churn even though he hadn't eaten anything for several days. He had never been sea-sick before, but now he was hot and cold at the same time, and thirsty – so very thirsty. The hallucinations had started again as he watched the green and white anchor rope inch its way up to wrap itself around his neck like an angry boa constrictor. He tried to reach up to grab the rope, struggling to breathe as the rope grew tighter, cutting off his airflow, but found that he couldn't move his arms to free himself as stars danced in his vision…Beckett – she was in danger and he couldn't leave her like this.

Then suddenly, everything stopped – the wind and the movement of the boat – and the rope was gone and he could breathe again, even if somewhat painfully. The only thing that remained was the constant spray of warm, funny-smelling water on his face, neck, hair, and hands, and that annoyed him as he tried to move away from it. And there was this pelican pecking on his toes and the bottom of his feet and making squawking noises…

But the thing that annoyed him more was the constant drone in his ears – a beep near his head and a voice that his foggy brain couldn't quite place. And, oh yeah, he still couldn't move his arms. He tried to make sense of what was going on around him and pull himself up through the cobwebs that enshrouded his mind as he blinked his eyes open.

He closed them quickly to avoid the harsh sunlight that was blinding him as the voice continued whispering in his ear – a siren's lure that he knew so well and that almost soothed him back to sleep.

But no – he hadn't been on that damned boat – he had been somewhere else, definitely not the ocean – somewhere that smelt of wood and moss and dirt and something burning – Hollander's Woods, his brain immediately fastened onto where he had really been – and Nieman and Tyson had been there!

The noise in the room increased exponentially as his memory returned and he tried to sit up, only to find that he couldn't – that he was strapped down.

"Castle, babe," Beckett said reassuringly, her voice near his ear. "You're okay – you're in the hospital, but you need to be still. We got them."

Castle blinked several more times as Beckett's smiling face came into focus. "I'm really starting to hate hospitals," he whispered hoarsely. He swallowed thickly against the lump in his throat as he searched her face. "How did you know they were there?"

"Carlucci," Beckett replied softly. "Jordan and I were leaving Jerald Jr's office and he rear-ended the back of our car to get our attention."

"I like him," said Castle. "Go big or go home."

"Reminds me of someone I know," said Beckett, smiling slightly. "Jordan ordered a helicopter and we got there as fast as we could. Nieman was waiting in the car when we landed and we collared her. Then you and Tyson tumbled down the hill a few moments later."

Castle's eyes narrowed in thought as he tried to remember the nightmare of walking through the woods towards his car to get help. "He was standing at the top, looking at something – pointing a gun," he said suddenly, his eyes flashing in remembrance. "I could see you in the parking lot, so I tackled him." He tried to shake his head, but the cervical collar prevented him from doing that. "I don't remember anything after that…"

Beckett nodded. "Haloperidol. It was the same thing they gave me at my apartment."

"Yeah, Nieman gave it to me to knock me out while I was tied up – so that I would choke myself when I slumped in the chair," Castle said, frowning.

Beckett nodded, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear, smiling at him again. "But you didn't. You pulled a Zalman Drake."

"For future reference, I prefer Derek Storm," Castle said, smiling back. He remembered not to try to nod because of the neck brace. "Muscle relaxants take a while to work on me and they had me tied to a wooden chair, so I knew that we had a chance to catch them if I could get free."

He frowned for a moment. "Where are they now? Nieman and Tyson?"

"Jordan is personally escorting them to the Intensive Management Unit," Beckett replied.

"Good," Castle replied. He looked down his body at the restraints across his chest and arms. "Uh – can I get these off now?" he asked as a nurse walked back into the room.

The nurse smiled at him. "As long as you don't try to get up. The doctor has ordered a CT scan of your neck and spine to check for injuries."

"Scout's honor," said Castle, smiling at her.

The nurse smiled back and undid the straps holding him to the gurney. "And while we're waiting for the technician, we can get you cleaned up some more."

She moved away to put on exam gloves and pull several supplies from the cabinets in the room.

Castle frowned questioningly at Beckett.

"The gun went off when you and Tyson tumbled down the hill and his arm was grazed. We're pretty sure most of the blood on you was from him," she responded.

"Then dip me in a vat of disinfectant and give me the biggest antibiotic shot you have," Castle said in an almost panic, his eyes widening slightly.

Holding a pair of scissors, the nurse walked back to the gurney and then paused. "Mr. Castle, I can either cut your shirt off now or wait until the doctor says you can move so that you can take it off yourself."

"We'll need to bag it for evidence," Beckett said quickly, slipping back into cop mode for a moment.

"So no chance of getting it back," Castle replied. "Besides, my dry cleaners threatened to have me blacklisted if I bring in any more clothes with blood on them, so cut away."

Seeing the nurse's puzzled expression, Beckett smiled slightly and stepped out of the way, but still held onto Castle's hand as the nurse made quick work of his shirt and t-shirt underneath.

# # # # # # # #

Beckett had just finished speaking to one of the state troopers who had been at Hollander's Woods when they wheeled Castle, minus the cervical collar and now wearing a hospital gown, back into the room. The doctor followed close behind.

"Well, the good news is that I didn't see anything on the scans," he said. "I would advise you that if you experience anything out of the unusual, that you go see your primary care physician. And don't make any major decisions today or operate heavy equipment. I'll go write the orders to release you."

Castle nodded at the man and then carefully sat up with Beckett's help. He was still a little light-headed from the drug.

"So my thick-headedness came in handy today," Castle quipped as they hugged one another.

"Yeah," Beckett replied, "that or the fact you were limp as a rag doll when you hit the ground."

Castle nodded, shifting to he could rub his hip slightly. "And I think I found some rocks when I did."

Beckett smiled at him. "Espo and Ryan will be here in about 15 minutes and I asked them bring some of clothes for you."

"Good," Castle said, nodding again and thought for a moment. "We can have them take us to Hollander's Woods to get my car."

Beckett paused a moment, frowning slightly. "Rick – babe – about that—"

Castle stiffened. "Oh, this is bad news, isn't it? You've got that 'but' face."

Beckett raised an eyebrow at him.

"Not the double-t 'butt' – the 'bad news' but face," Castle said quickly.

Beckett nodded. "Yeah, I just spoke with Officer Coates." She took both of his hands in hers. "They found your car in the lake at Hollander's Woods. They think that Nieman or Tyson drove it in there to hide it."

Castle stared at her for a few moments, wondering if he was still dreaming. "Our new car? With my new phone?"

Beckett crinkled her nose. "Yeah, that one."

"Huh," said Castle, digesting the information. "You know, maybe I should have bought that Gibbs Aquada after all."

# # # # # # # #

A call from Gates convinced the couple to go home rather than stopping by the precinct so that Castle could give his statement. With Nieman and Tyson in federal custody, that could wait until the next morning so that he and Beckett could have some alone time together after the stressful day that they had.

The next morning had Castle moving stiffly as he climbed out of bed, the parts of his back and hip that had connected with the ground now several different shades of the rainbow. He took several selfies to send to the precinct as further proof against Nieman and Tyson.

After a quick shower that morning, Beckett had opted to give him a gentle massage with muscle cream guaranteed not to smell to help him loosen up so that he could move more easily.

The massage took a little longer than anticipated and the concierge had to call twice to let them know that the car service was here to pick them up. Beckett's car was at the precinct and Castle's car was still at the bottom of the lake until an official state wrecker could come haul it out.

# # # # # # # #

On their way in, Beckett got a text from Espo that Gates, Shaw, and the DA were waiting for them, so would they please hurry and get in their asses up there because the Captain didn't look too happy and Shaw was wearing a hole in the floor?

Therefore, they were both prepared when they walked onto the precinct floor and Gates immediately called them into the conference room.

The Captain quickly shut the door and closed the blinds as the couple sat down on the couch.

"Castle, you're looking none the worse for the wear," said Jordan, eyeing the butterfly bandage and the bruising on his face.

Castle shrugged slightly. "Should have seen the other guys," he quipped with a slight sardonic grin.

"That's the problem," the Captain replied as she sat down opposite them. "We have."

She paused a moment. "Both Nieman and Tyson have retained lawyers – separately. And they are both willing to cut deals with the DA to give information to implicate the other person."

The DA looked at the couple. "That's where you come in, Mr. Castle. We need to decide if we are going to cut a deal and which deal to cut."

Castle looked at her incredulously. "You can't be serious," he finally blurted out. "They're psychopaths – serial killers. They should be locked away forever – both of them."

Gates nodded. "I couldn't agree more, but we have to proceed carefully on this. All the evidence on 3XK was stolen last year—"

"He told me he was 3KX – in the hotel room," Castle's head snapped up as he blurted out. That was one of the days that would be burned in his memory forever.

The DA looked at him. "Exactly what did he say?"

Castle didn't even have to think. "I said it was him – Tyson – all along – that he was the real Triple Killer and he said 'Guilty as charged.'"

"Did Detective Ryan hear this also?" the DA asked.

Castle shook his head. "No – Tyson had knocked him out."

"So right now, what we have is your word about what he said." The DA thought for a moment. "The problem is that Tyson is saying that Nieman is the real 3XK and Nieman is saying that Tyson is."

Beckett frowned and shook her head. "They both are. Tyson may have done the actual killing, but Nieman made it possible for him to do it."

"Taking that off the table – what about their attack on Kate?" Castle demanded. "They tried to kill her! Doesn't that count for something?"

Jordan shook her head slightly. "They're saying that it was simply a practical joke gone wrong."

"What!?" exclaimed Castle. "You can't believe that!"

"It wasn't!" Beckett exclaimed.

"We don't believe it was," Gates said and then put up her hand as Castle was about to protest again. "Unfortunately, the evidence points to that. Simply put, if they had wanted to kill Kate in her apartment, they had ample opportunity to do so. If they wanted to have killed you, Mr. Castle, they could have."

"They tried to strangle me," Castle said, almost indignantly. "They tied me to a chair and gave me Haloperidol to knock me out so I'd strangle myself."

The DA and Gates looked at each other for a moment.

"Nieman said she gave you a dose that wouldn't knock you out immediately so that you could get free and Tyson said he tied you to an old wooden chair, rather than the metal one in the room, so that you could get free," Gates said.

"And without the physical evidence from the 3XK files, all we have is your word as to what happened in the hotel room," said the DA. "Which Tyson's lawyer will try to discredit, of course."

"So it would've been better if they had killed one of us?" Castle asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

Gates looked at Beckett. "I'm sure you'll be pressing charges against them, Detective. And you, Mr. Castle?"

The couple nodded. "Yes, of course."

"So now, what we have Nieman and Tyson on is two charges of 2nd degree assault," said the DA. "That means 15 years at the max for Nieman, less if her lawyer's any good. Tyson's already served time as a violent offender, so this may put him away forever."

"Stalking," Beckett said quietly. "Don't forget stalking. They're both guilty of that. They knew where I lived. We saw the files that Tyson had on Castle."

"Which unfortunately were also stolen," said Gates.

"By the 2 people they murdered last year," Castle said bluntly.

"Which we don't have proof of," Gates gently reminded him. "Why don't you two take the rest of the day off?" which was more of an order than a request. "We'll sort things out here."

"So what am I supposed to tell Mr. and Mrs. Tarrent about Danna's murder?" Castle asked as he stood. "That the killers are walking away almost free?"

"You can tell them that we will do our best to put these monsters away forever," replied Gates.

# # # # # # # #

Still smoldering, Castle strode out of the conference room, straight to the elevator and furiously punched the down button several times.

Beckett waved Espo and Ryan off and was just a step behind him. Even though her police training had prepared her for this, it was still knocked the wind out of her the few times that it had happened before.

The elevator finally arrived and they got in, waiting for the doors to close before they looked at each other.

Castle grabbed her in a hug, still too angry to speak, and let her presence calm him down.

"I'm so sorry," he finally whispered in her hair. "This is so not right. They should be going away for life – both of them."

Beckett held on to him, returning his fierce hug. "We'll get them, babe."

They broke apart as the elevator reached the bottom floor and the door opened.

"So what do you want to do now?" Beckett asked, holding on to his hand.

Castle nodded slightly, grimly. "The Tarrent's – they deserve to know what's going on."

# # # # # # # #


	13. Chapter 13 The Right Stuff

Sinning by Silence

Summary – Post 7x09 AU. _**SPOILER ALERT**_** – Spoilers for season 7**. What if Beckett's last visit to her old apartment didn't go quite as she planned and some old "friends" showed up to play. Still not light and fluffy like some of the fics out there. This is my interpretation of how some things play out.

_Author's Note_s: Hey, 2 chapters in 1 week. Once again, thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows – they really mean a lot. And there's 1 more chapter to do. And whoops, back in Chapter 4, it should have been Judge Markway's sister and her husband whose daughter was murdered – I've fixed that.

As usual, I don't own anything Castle.

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**Chapter 13 The Right Stuff**

# # # # # # # #

As Beckett drove away from the precinct, Castle sat in the passenger's seat, brooding and staring out the side window.

Beckett finally had had enough of his silence and pulled into a parking space after they had gone a couple of miles.

She turned to him and put a hand on his knee. "Babe, it's not your fault – any of this. You're the one who figured out who Tyson was in the first place. If you hadn't, he would have just disappeared—"

"He did that anyway," Castle interrupted her, blowing out a huff. "And he – and Nieman – kept killing."

"But you made it harder for him – for them – to do that," Beckett argued.

"And now – now this." Castle's voice rose slightly. "They want to cut a deal so one of them gets a reduced sentence after all they've done. That's not fair!"

He sank back in the seat and was silent for a few moments. "I'm sorry," he finally whispered. "I didn't truly understand it when you told me that it would make you sick to watch your mother's killer cut some deal that put him back on the street in 10 years." He swallowed thickly. "Now I do."

"The DA hasn't decided on a deal yet," Beckett responded matter-of-factly. "They may not."

"But the evidence we have on anything 3XK did in the past is at best circumstantial, which isn't to say it isn't any good, but he could easily pin the previous murders on Gates or even Mathews." Castle frowned. "What we need is irrefutable proof that they are sick bastards or a smoking gun that will put them away forever."

"Okay," said Beckett, nodding. "Jerald Jr. said that he knew what Tyson had put in his box and that he told his mother, so I think we need to pay her a visit."

# # # # # # # #

When they arrived at the first Mrs. Nieman's house near the Rockland Lake State Park golf course, Leslie, her personal assistant, informed the couple that Mrs. Nieman had just teed off if they wanted to catch up with her.

And, yes, that would be the Championship course, not the Executive course.

The course attendant frowned at the low-heeled boots Beckett had worn that day and Castle's dress shoes, but relented when Castle rented a golf cart for the day with a sizable tip for the young man.

As Castle drove along the course to catch up with Mrs. Nieman, Beckett enjoyed the scenery. It was a beautiful day and the weather just warm enough that all she needed was a light jacket.

Castle stopped the cart when he saw Mrs. Nieman and they waited for her to swing before approaching her. The ball flew on a straight trajectory for several seconds and then hooked a wicked curve to the left to land in a wooded stand about half-way down the green.

"Mrs. Nieman, I'm Detective Beckett," Beckett said as she pulled out her shield. "And this is Richard Castle, a consultant with the NYPD."

Mrs. Nieman looked them over with an appraising eye. "I know who you are," she said. "Mr. Nieman said I should call my lawyer if you tried to speak with me."

"Ma'am, we're not here to accuse you of anything," Beckett replied. "We just have some questions about Tyson – uh – Bret," she quickly corrected herself.

Mrs. Nieman nodded and then looked at her caddy. "Calnan, be a dear – I hooked my ball into the woods. Would you mind going to get it?"

"Sure – be right back," the young man said.

Mrs. Nieman waited until he was several yards away before turning back to Beckett. "It should take him a while to find the ball and I don't listen to my ex-husband. So ask away."

Beckett pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. "Jerald Jr. said that he told you that Bret put a dead cat in the box at camp."

Mrs. Nieman nodded. "Yes, he did. And I told Mr. Nieman about it and told him that Bret needed help – serious medical help – no matter the cost to us or our reputation."

"And how did Mr. Nieman take that?" Castle asked.

"He sent Bret to military school, for all the good it did. Said that he just needed a firmer hand and more structure than we could give him at home," Mrs. Nieman said bitterly and then shook her head. "It wasn't that we didn't try to reach Bret. I home schooled the children and we sent Bret to day-treatment several times. We went to counseling. But Bret was smart – he knew how to work the system, knew how to skirt just under the line so he wouldn't raise any red flags and they said he wasn't a threat to anyone so he didn't qualify for inpatient care."

Castle frowned at her. "You're talking about a 10 year old boy."

Mrs. Nieman smiled sadly. "He may have been 10, but he was never ever truly a boy. Not one who took delight in everyday life anyway. You could see it when you looked in his eyes. That strange cold light that settled into them when he was mad."

Beckett frowned at her. "Did Bret ever threaten you?"

Mrs. Nieman shook her head. "No. Like I said, he was too smart for that, but I'd find little things – the flowers pulled off a rose bush in the garden, a batch of cookies I had just made on the floor and the plate smashed, a dead mouse in the trash can."

"Do you have the name of the counselors that you used?" Beckett asked.

Mrs. Nieman nodded. "I'll text you the names. I don't know that it'll do you any good though – their office burnt down years ago and all the records were destroyed."

Beckett and Castle looked at each other.

"What about Kelly?" Beckett finally asked.

Mrs. Nieman closed her eyes briefly, a pained expression on her face. "Do I know that my daughter may be helping a serial killer or even be a serial killer?" She looked at them sadly. "Yes, Jerald Jr. told me."

She stared off in the distance. "You think that you've done something right," she said quietly. "Raised your children to be productive members of society – a doctor even – and then that crashes down on you when it's not the case and you don't know what you did that was so wrong."

Mrs. Nieman shook her head. "She and Bret were close. She's the one he would always go to with his problems. Then, it all exploded when Kelly found out Bret was her half-brother – the things she accused my ex-husband of." Again the bitter smile. "We never saw her after that."

Beckett nodded. "Mrs. Nieman, did you tell anyone else about the cat incident?"

Mrs. Nieman smiled slightly. "Yes, Bret's counselor, but it didn't do any good. And Bret's reply was that he found the dead cat in the forest and knew that Kelly was interested in becoming a doctor, so he saved the cat in the box to give to her when she got into medical school. It would be a skeleton by then and she could study it. The counselor said it was merely a wacky idea that a boy might have."

Beckett pushed a piece of hair behind her ear again. "Mrs. Nieman, would you be willing to testify in court to what you told us here?"

"Of course," Mrs. Nieman replied. "Just call Leslie when you need me."

"Thank you for your time," Beckett said, taking a card from her wallet and handing it to Mrs. Nieman. "If you think of anything else, please call me at any time."

"I will." Mrs. Nieman waved at Calnan, who was standing half-way down the green, the ball at his feet where he had dropped it.

# # # # # # # #

Castle frowned as they pulled up to the pro shop. "Well, not exactly a smoking gun."

Beckett shook her head. "But it strengthens the circumstantial evidence. Now what?" she said as she got out of the golf cart.

"Now we go tell the Tarrent's what's going on," Castle replied.

# # # # # # # #

Beckett hung up her cell phone and walked up to the porch as Castle knocked on the door.

"That was Jordan – they're taking Tyson and Nieman to 1PP to be interviewed."

Castle peered through the glass on the door and then moved back slightly. "What I'd give to be a fly on that wall."

Beckett nodded. "Gates won't even be there – they want to make sure the 12th doesn't jeopardize the case against them."

"For what?" asked Castle as he knocked again. "Being involved? Being the witnesses?"

"They are sending someone to take our statements later today," Beckett replied.

"Guess no one is home," said Castle as he dialed Mr. Tarrent's number. The call went to voice mail. "Mr. Tarrent, this is Richard Castle. I just wanted to give you an update on the case."

They both turned at the sound of a car pulling into the driveway.

"Judge Markway," said Castle, walking up to the car as the judge got out. "We were here to give your sister and her husband an update on the case, but no one is home."

"Thanks, Rick," said Markway. "And I heard what happened. I'm glad you're okay."

"Wow – the rumor mill is really working overtime," Castle replied.

Markway looked past them to the detached garage. "That's Edna's car, so she must be home. She probably didn't hear you knock."

He pulled the spare keys out of his pocket as they walked back to the front door and then knocked loudly before inserting the keys and opening the door.

"Eddie, you home?" he called out as they entered.

The first odd sock that Castle and Beckett noticed was how cold the house was – the AC was running even though the temperature outside was fairly cool.

"Eddie?" Markway called out again.

He turned to Castle and Beckett. "She might be upstairs in the bathroom. I'll be right back."'

The second odd sock that Castle noticed was the 3D printer sitting on the table in the formal dining room. Curious, he walked over to it to see what they were printing.

"Oh, no! Eddie!"

Markway's anguished cry from upstairs had both him and Beckett bolting up the stairs toward the bedroom.

Markway stood in the door, stricken and pale-faced, as he looked at the body on the bed, wrapped in clear plastic.

# # # # # # # #

As the body was being wheeled down the stairs, Beckett walked over to Castle, who was standing by the printer, looking at the plans in his hands.

"The ME said she probably died a couple of days ago and there aren't any signs of a struggle," Beckett said. "Judge Markway said that his sister had been having trouble sleeping since her daughter was murdered and there was a bottle of open pills by the bed. The ME thinks that it might have been an accidental overdose."

"Uh, huh," said Castle, still looking at the plans.

"Mr. Tarrent's office said that he went to 1PP yesterday afternoon to meet with clients," Beckett continued. "And he has a meeting there this afternoon."

"Uh, huh…" said Castle.

"We've tried to call him, but his phone is going to voice mail, so…" she frowned. "Castle, are you listening to me?"

"Oh, yeah, uh-huh," he said, still looking at the plans. "Kate, these are plans for a plastic gun." He looked up at her. "That's why he's been going to 1PP – he's going to try to kill Tyson and Nieman."

Beckett shook her head. "That won't work. Jordan said they're wearing body armor for protection."

Castle shook his head in response. "No – not with bullets," he said, pulling on a pair of exam gloves that he had taken to carrying in his jacket pocket. He picked up an empty vial from the table. "Mrs. Tarrent was a herpetologist who worked at the New York zoos – specifically with the poisonous snakes. I think he plans to poison them."

They looked at each other and said at the same time, "We need to warn Jordan now."

# # # # # # # #


	14. Chapter 14 Omnia Extrema

Sinning by Silence

Summary – Post 7x09 AU. _**SPOILER ALERT**_** – Spoilers for season 7**. What if Beckett's last visit to her old apartment didn't go quite as she planned and some old "friends" showed up to play. Still not light and fluffy like some of the fics out there. This is my interpretation of how some things play out. Now complete.

_Author's Note_s: Once again, thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows – they really mean a lot. This is fairly short – just a quick wrap up; and I'm waiting anxiously to see what TPTB do with Nieman and Tyson for the sweeps.

As usual, I don't own anything Castle.

# # # # # # # #

**Chapter 14 Omnia Extrema**

# # # # # # # #

"It's finally over – they're dead – it's finally over – they're dead," was the mantra that played in Castle's head as he stood in the morgue, staring at the 2 bodies, thinking how easily that could have been Kate and him if things had gone differently.

He frowned as he thought back to the events of yesterday – the events that finally ended the nightmare they had been caught in since he had discovered who 3XK really was.

They had been too late when they reached Jordan. Tarrent had already fulfilled his mission and 1PP was on lockdown – hell, Castle thought, he would have done the same thing if they had killed Kate or someone else he loved. There wouldn't have been any trial for those monsters – he would have made sure of it no matter what happened to him.

Beckett had put the call on speaker so that they could hear what Jordan was saying.

Tarrent has used his lawyer's credentials to get into the building, stating that he was there to see a client. He had then gone into a utility closet to change into a police uniform that he had in his briefcase and used a stolen security badge to gain access to secured areas.

The hallway used to bring Nieman and Tyson into the building had been cleared of anyone but uniformed officers, and the DA was personally escorting the couple to an interrogation room.

Tarrent had waited until they walked in front of him and then fired, close-range, the darts hitting them in the lower abdomen, dispersing the poison into their bodies upon impact.

At first, Nieman and Tyson were startled by the attack and then laughed it off as they pulled out the darts. Within minutes, they were both on the floor, writhing in agony as the venom tore its way through their bodies.

(Castle shivered in remembrance of what that felt like – how he could feel his body shutting down, turning to lead as the poison in his system overwhelmed him.)

Tarrent had simply surrendered, dropping the gun and even telling them what had been in the darts – the venom from an inland taipan – not that it would help.

One of the herpetologists at the zoo had been scratched by an inland taipan last week and the available anti-venom had been administered. The new shipment hadn't arrived from Australia yet.

The pair died from respiratory paralysis and cerebral hemorrhaging within 45 minutes, even as the EMTs worked frantically to stabilize them.

Jordan told them to go home, decompress, because they would be needed at 1PP in the morning to give their statements.

When they finally made it to the loft, they were alone. Alexis was spending the night with a friend as they prepped for a test and Martha was at a retreat.

They finally had to the loft to themselves, but all they did was hold each other, swaying gently to their song that Castle queued up on his phone until the need for sleep drove them towards the bedroom.

They made up for it in the shower the next morning.

A slight "Ahem" broke through his trace and Castle turned to look at Perlmutter as the ME walked in the room.

"Mr. Castle," Perlmutter acknowledged, picking up a chart. For once, he tolerated the writer's presence in his office.

"Perlmutter," Castle said and then turned back to look at Nieman and Tyson. "Are you sure it's them?" he asked quietly. "I mean, there's not a chance they're duplicates – evil twins of evil twins? Clones made to look like them?"

"Do you mean, am I capable of performing my job?" Perlmutter scoffed. "Yes, I can verify that that is Kelly Nieman and Bret Stony – aka Jerry Tyson."

He walked over to the bodies. "The Nieman's positively identified Kelly Nieman, but they couldn't identify Tyson because he has had several major facial reconstruction procedures."

Perlmutter quickly held up his hand to stop Castle from talking. "I had the DNA tested. There was a 99.99% match in the case of Nieman and her parents, and an 85% match between Tyson and Mr. Nieman. I've also matched the dental records. So, yes, these are definitely Nieman and Tyson and they are definitely dead."

Castle stared at the bodies a moment longer. "We don't need to drive a stake through their hearts to make sure they're dead?" he said finally.

"Wouldn't do much good – their hearts are in those jars over there," Perlmutter shrugged, pointing to the shelf where several containers sat.

"Oh, okay," said Castle as he looked in that direction. Yeah, that would be hard to come back from.

"Now, if you don't mind, Mr. Castle, I have an official report to write before I can release the bodies to the Nieman's," Perlmutter said.

Castle nodded, took one last look at the corpses, and walked out of the room. He turned back when he reached the door. "Thank you," he said simply.

Perlmutter merely grunted as he turned on the video camera.

# # # # # # # #

Beckett was at her desk, finishing her report on what had happened at Hollander's Woods, when Castle walked off the elevator with 2 cups of coffee.

She smiled as he placed one on her desk and then sat down in his chair. "Took you a while to get the coffee," she merely commented.

Castle shrugged, smiling slightly. "You know me and paperwork. I run from the sight of it."

"Yeah," said Beckett before taking a sip of coffee. "And speaking of paperwork, now that you're officially back, maybe we should get you a desk of your own." She cocked her head at him.

There hadn't been any announcement, just a simple phone call from Gates to say, "Welcome back, Mr. Castle," and let them know that all had been forgiven, especially in light of the DA not being able to keep Nieman and Tyson alive while in their custody.

Castle pouted slightly. "But then I wouldn't get to stare at you while you work. What's the fun in that?"

"Oh, but I'd get so much more work done," Beckett replied, pursing her lips into a slight smile.

Castle was going to respond, but was cut off as Beckett's phone rang.

Beckett picked it up and thumbed the call on. "Uh, huh – uh, huh."

She quickly hung up and looked at Castle. "That was Espo – we've got a body at the Met. Seems like one of the dressers was killed by a falling mannequin."

"Hmmm, so they were mangled by a mannequin that was up to shenanigans," said Castle as they stood and walked off. "Or crushed by a clumsy dummy."

Beckett bumped her hip into his as she grimaced at his quips. She had truly missed this.

# # # # # # # #

—The End—


End file.
